50,000 Words In

I'm 50,000 words into the next manuscript, this one a mystery/romance. I'd written a rough draft decades ago and shoved it away in a binder on my closet shelf (I have probably twenty of such binders), so I've dug it out and am rewriting it. This one features a woman who runs an antique shop and is hired to inventory a mansion for insurance purposes but gets caught up in a case of fraud and theft.

People have asked me how much of myself is reflected in my books. I think all of them contain a bit of me---you can't really avoid that---to varying degrees. Promise of Spring had a protagonist who could fulfill my personal dream of farming and rehabilitating over-farmed land. Garden Plot arose from a real estate ad I wanted to pursue, and the main character had the irritating habit of always having a song in her head (yes, that's me. It's constant. It's never quiet in here). Beyond the White River arose from a time when I was homesick for the smell of sagebrush and reflects my love of place. The main character in Desperate Measures probably reflects my personality the most of all my writing. And it goes on...

This new manuscript lets me explore what it would be like to know about and deal in antiques, something that interests me but that I've never really pursued. That and running a bookstore were early career aspirations at one point. Then again, there were also periods where I wanted to be a veterinarian, an English teacher, a forest ranger, Grizzly Adams, a speech-language pathologist, a musician, a baker, a public speaker, a statistician, a farmer's market vendor, a textile artist, a university theology professor...

When you can't decide what to be, the only logical solution is to become a writer, and then your characters can do all of those things and follow all of those paths that interest you. So this round, an antiques expert it is!

To Be or Not To Be

My husband and I have developed the habit of walking 6 kms most mornings, shuffling around the mall with a herd of other seniors because the weather's too nasty to walk outdoors. I don't know if it's having any effect on our cardio fitness, but it does give us an hour and a half each day to just yack. And yack we do, on every topic under the sun.

This week, I expressed to him the weird "limbo" I've felt I'm in since losing my job. I haven't found another one, and to be honest, I don't really want another one, but I feel a bit lost and routine-less without one. My former job was never the defining thing about me and I didn't enjoy most of it, but after 40+ years of doing it, it feels strange to suddenly stop. I've always wanted to retire, but being forcibly "retired" without having a say in the matter or control over the timing is discombobulating. 

Now I'm in this gray area---am I retired? Is that it and I'm done with that part of my life? Do I keep looking for something? Do we just figure out the finances and settle for something part-time to top up the coffers as needed? I think because it happened without being my choice, I feel like I can't choose now to say I'm officially retired. It's like standing at the starting line of a race, waiting for the gun to go off, but the gun never comes, and you realize everyone else is already running and you've taken a couple of steps over the line but aren't committed yet... Do I need someone's permission to say I'm retired now? Do I need my own?

Anyway, after quite a lot of this sort of irritating talk, my husband turns to me there in the mall, holds his hands out toward me, and shouts loudly, "Shazam! You're retired!"

It made me laugh and a few people stare, but you know what? It helped! 

I keep listening to Alan Frew's Canada's Song, especially the line that says "Free to be a dreamer, free to be who you are, free to believe in your star, free to go far..." Who I am is a writer and a gardener, and I want to support myself doing those things. I'll find a way to do that, and I'll stop searching for another admin job, because that's not who I am. And somehow now I feel like I've got permission to go after those things, the life I want. Even though, really, that permission resided within me the whole time.

Have a listen:

Free to Be Strong and Free

Another Manuscript and an Update on My Other Writing

I've sent off another manuscript to the publisher. This one is a suspense novel, which I haven't ever attempted before, but it was fun to do. Fingers crossed! It'll be 2-7 months before I hear back. I bent the rules a little and threw in some romance and humour, so we'll see what they make of it. It's sort of along the lines of my previous novel, Garden Plot. I'm leaning toward the title of Weaving Shadows or Forest of Secrets, but the publisher would ultimately decide what to name it.

Meanwhile, I'm also waiting to hear back on another manuscript (women's fiction) called Before You Go that I'm shopping around. That one mostly takes place in Hawaii and features an 87-year-old protagonist.

I've self-published Mom's Handbook of Gardening: Everything I Know About Growing Food, which is now available for purchase. It's 153 pages and is in PDF format only.

And finally, of course, I'm awaiting the publication of Simply Beautiful: Making Your Life Reflect Your Values, which comes out in January 2026.

I'd say it's been a productive few months! 

Sure enough...Murphy's Law

The day after I planted the peas...2 inches of snow, followed by more freezing rain. Should be all right...

I suppose gardening is the most optimistic activity, really, other than planting trees. I heard a woman on TV say that such-and-such an action had an effect for 100 years, and she wanted to continue it so it would go for another 100 years. And my only thought was, "The world won't be here in 100 years." I don't think we as a society have 20, much less 100. Even planting fruit trees is a stretch of the imagination that I can't quite pull off...but I can manage planting annual vegetables. That's about my speed right now. So I'll do that.

Freezing Rain and Tomato Seeds

Sure enough, the rain turned to freezing rain this week, transforming the trees into crystal windchimes. I suppose it's rough on the plants, but I find freezing rain so beautiful, and now that I'm off work, I don't have to commute in it, which makes it even more cozy. I love standing at the window watching the sunlight dance on the ice, a book and a hot cuppa being my only goals for the day. (Meanwhile my son's area has been without power and water for three days. We offered to let him stay at the church, but he's standing his ground. An opportunity to be creative and resourceful!)

While the weather outside is frightful, and today it sounds like the wind is trying to tear off the solar panels, indoors it's spring. I've started my tomato starts---optimistically---as well as a tray of marigolds. I tested some older seeds for germination and they all came up, 100%, which is stunning. And now I find I don't have the heart to kill them, but really, it's TOO early to be starting zucchini. But the plucky thing is three inches tall and scrambling toward the light, and I might have to let it just keep going. I could transplant it into bigger and bigger pots, I suppose...

Every year we grow a few things hydroponically indoors, trying various systems. Right now I have trays of spinach growing in the kitchen in net pots of clay pellets, just sitting in containers of nutrient solution. It works. But hubby wants to try buckets this year, with pumps and spray nozzles and aeroponics, so I've started the tomatoes and cucumbers to transfer into that. Maybe I could sneak the zucchini into that without him noticing...?

Finally, I tiptoed outside between downpours and moved some of the soil from a flowerbed we're removing (to improve drainage away from the house) to the garden. I let the squirrels play with the fresh earth for a few days to get it out of their systems and then planted sugar snap peas. I've sprinkled chili powder over the peas to keep the critters out, but the rain will soon wash that away. What I'd really like is a physical barrier, wire, to give the peas a fighting chance this year. Between the squirrels and the rabbits, I rarely get peas. But ultimately, the peas might play decoy to draw the animals away from the real prize, the green beans.