My Dog Pete

Change is the only constant

/ J. F. Riordan / 29 Comments

I interrupt today’s novel-writing to bring you an important message. I am about to move my blog to Substack. You will still be receiving my daily emails, but they will look a little bit different. All of the technology will be much more user-friendly. Making comments will be easier, and maybe, once I’m out of this intense phase of writing, we will find more opportunities to interact.

If you want to download the app, you can do that, but you won’t have to.

My emails will still be free.

If you don’t receive anything from me tomorrow, please check your junk folder. Look for the Gratuitous Dog Photo.

See you on Substack!

Would you buy a used car from this guy?

Birds on a wire

/ J. F. Riordan / 28 Comments

You know those word scramble videos, where the words or letters float randomly around the screen until they finally alight and settle in their right order, like birds landing on a wire? Or the place in a puzzle where, after struggling to get any sense of the solution, suddenly in a flash it’s all perfectly clear, and you pop the answers into their spaces, one-two-three?

Well, that’s where I am in the book right now.

I see the pieces of the plot line, and the specific scenes, and they are floating around in my head, not quite finding their right order, but all there, ready to settle into their proper places. This whirling phenomenon is familiar, it is the beginning of the race to the end; the last first step before the book truly takes shape, when I can begin trimming, fitting, cutting, and polishing.

It takes so much effort and fits and starts to get to this place, but it is the good part: the part where rather than struggling to find the line, all I have to do is snatch it up out of the air and lay in its perfectly prepared spot.

Long writing days ahead, but the solution to the puzzle is whirling like those birds

We’re in the home stretch.

Have you pre-ordered?

Emergence

/ J. F. Riordan / 12 Comments

After a full day of work, I dragged myself out of my writer’s hole around 9:30 this morning to eat something and breathe some fresh air. Auggie was already racing, and even Eli oozed out the kitchen door for a little walk and some time with his green ball.

On our walk we discovered an enormous tree deep in the woods that had been completely uprooted and lay like a fallen giant. In the process it had taken a few neighboring trees down with it. Some of the daffodils are six inches high and others are popping up everywhere amid the hostas—which are also poking up. The blossoms on one of our big sugar maples have already opened—a record— two tiny blue scilla are blooming at the bottom of the hill where the turkeys gather, and a cluster of snowdrops are thriving among last year’s leaves.

Here in the midwest we’d usually call this False Spring just before Third Winter, but even though we have Lake Michigan to keep us fairly cool for a while longer, I don’t think Actual Spring is far off. At least I hope it isn’t because a heavy snowfall on our blossoming maple tree could bring it down.

It was a short winter for us, but at least we got some snow along the way.

A little bit of drama

/ J. F. Riordan / 31 Comments

It was very windy yesterday, and normally I am conscious of the dangers of being among trees in those conditions. But it was sunny and warm, and I was restless from writing, and Auggie was restless from being himself, so we were outside when a big tree came crashing down before our eyes, very close to where we had just been.

It was far enough away that we were not in any danger, but close enough that the wood dust flew into our eyes. We went indoors to find the bedroom doors blown open, and small branches on the floor. Eli, who had refused to come outside, was hiding. After that we waited for sunset, when the wind tends to die down, to go out again.

Life is precarious, so this dog photo isn’t really gratuitous at all. Eli insisted on resting his head on Auggie’s flank. After some pointed stares and couple of noises that were more groans than growls, Auggie permitted it. For a little while.

We have another big dead tree close to the house I had planned to ignore for a while. I guess I’d better call Johanna, our tree climbing, chainsaw-wielding arborist.

Grief

/ J. F. Riordan / 19 Comments

I have been thinking a lot about grief lately. It is the only real constant in life, and yet we have to learn to roll with its waves and find the joys that intermingle with it, or else we will simply be immersed.

This morning I discovered by accident that a friend who lives some distance away lost her husband more than a year ago. She never told me, but then, we had lost touch during COVID, and the last time I saw her was when Eli was still a puppy, four years ago. She must have thought I would see the news somehow, but I no longer subscribe to the local paper, and have lost touch with the community, so when I stumbled upon his obituary this morning I was stunned.

There’s nothing I can do to make up for having let her down during this terrible time, and I hope she will forgive me. But please take a lesson from me: don’t let old friendships languish. COVID put us all in a weird rut of isolation. Call someone you’ve been out of touch with. You may never know how much it matters.

Reach out.

Look for joy.

Gratuitous Dog Video

/ J. F. Riordan / 27 Comments
When I’m writing intensively, we all enjoy breaks playing outdoors. Auggie has been learning a new command sequence, so he’s a little hesitant in playing Boo. He’s wicked smart, though, and will get it all straight in good time. I love how his nose curves up around the red ball.