…like an old, fat cat napping in the sun. Or a manatee. You pick.

I am not good at this updating thing anymore (maybe ever). I could blame fall quarter (always the problem child of the school year), or finishing a WIP on a self-imposed deadline. I could blame having to assemble a file for a merit review/senior promotion (which I will find out about… sometime in spring.) I could also blame this new WordPress environment that I’m getting used to but not proficient in yet, because I hate not being good at something, but also–I just don’t have the bandwidth to learn WP right now. Maybe that will be the first and only New Year’s resolution.

I did manage to finish that manuscript and sent it off to my agent in December. I like it! I hope she likes it. (There’s always that nagging terror she won’t, and then what.) This was a project that I began and then set aside for contract-work for, like, two years. It’s probably missing parts. I am a chronic under-writer. I hate endings. I have a running bet with myself where Lisa’s going to say you need another chapter here, or at least a scene and she will be correct.

I’m not under contract at the moment, and I am not one of those writers who sensibly lines up a bunch of pitches and writes whatever sells. No. I am one of those people who does it on spec and then hopes. And it is hope. There’s so much luck that goes into this, even with several books written and published. (Perhaps they did not do well (enough) to warrant a new contract. Perhaps whatever I’ve written now isn’t cool. Or it’s too weird.) I am reasonably sure it does not suck, because I have leveled up past the point of writing stuff that sucks. But beyond that… casting the bones, reading the cards.

I have some ideas for What’s Next, but I’m not in a hurry. Still coming back from burnout.

We went to the Hokusai exhibit at the Bower’s Museum this month, and while I thought all of it was pretty great–the Great Wave is, in fact, great–two pieces in particular tickled my fancy. One: this terrifying demon-hag, holding what appears to be someone’s head and pointing like she’s taking a selfie (note my silhouette in the glass behind her. It’s not really a selfie, y’all).

And then there was this little critter, who is the amphibian manifestation of my anxiety and existential dread.

And if you’ve gotten this far–well done!

But also, actual news (bury the lede!) the newsletter service I use will be going away in February, and so will the newsletter. WP allows you to subscribe to the blog, and since I am a worse newsletter-er than I am a blogger at this point–that’s probably your best bet. I don’t think, based on my updates here, that you need to worry about me clogging up your inbox.

2023 in movies: I loved Barbie. I loved Oppenheimer. (I did not see them on the same day, or even in the same month, and only one of them in a theatre.) I finally saw Everything Everywhere All at Once and loved it, too.

2023 in books, not exhaustive (I read a lot, y’all) probably only the last half of the year, honestly, what is time: Witch King, These Burning Stars, System Collapse, Refractions, The Waking of Agantyr, Black River Orchard, All Souls Lost.

And that is quite enough of year-end lists. I have a skein of yarn in a dye bath of “hm, what do I have left? Flame? Ruby? How about a little Amethyst in there too, for grins?” which will either be beautiful or look like the brush water at the end of a painting session. I will attempt to post it here, as proof of life and intention to update.

Byeee, 2023. Ok, 2024. Let’s do this.