Non-Gratuitous Dog Photo

January 7, 2024 / J. F. Riordan / 16 Comments

This is his I-expect-you-to-put-on-your-boots-and-come-play-ball-immediately-or-you-will-be-a-deep-disappointment-to-me look.
(Grateful for my healthy dog.)

Gratuitous Turkey Photo

January 6, 2024 / J. F. Riordan / 16 Comments

The one in the forefront to the left is my old friend, One Foot. He was the last to roost, and spent the day with his friends. Still going strong, to my surprise and pleasure.

Saturday Idyll

January 6, 2024 / J. F. Riordan / 14 Comments

A beautiful snowy morning. Went out in the dark to get a log, because it seemed wrong not to have a lovely fire. Dogs were quite excited that we were to play so early, and were sadly disappointed when I returned indoors so quickly.

Instead of writing, I spent a happy morning planning Valentine gifts.

We will have a cozy day at home, with a little novel plotting mixed in.

Happy Weekend!

Gratuitous Dog Photo

January 5, 2024 / J. F. Riordan / 11 Comments

Auggie gets secret cheese. You can tell he knows it’s a secret, and that it’s only for him.

Gratuitous Dog Photo

January 4, 2024 / J. F. Riordan / 17 Comments

Things to Remember for Next Christmas

January 3, 2024 / J. F. Riordan / 14 Comments

You won’t get any work done.

If you can’t find a tree, don’t panic. It’s Wisconsin.

Open car doors when attaching tree to roof.

Buy favorite champagne early.

Always drink champagne before shopping for tree.

Get lots of fresh air.

Balsams smell amazing, but don’t last as long as frasiers.

Go to at least one concert.

Buy and wrap presents early. HAHAHAHAHA

Listen to husband when he says tree looks great without ornaments.

Taking down the tree is a miserable job. But worth it.

Chex Mix.

No more excuses

January 2, 2024January 2, 2024 / J. F. Riordan / 28 Comments

It’s back to work day, an idea our French family members find ridiculous. January 2nd?? The day after New Year’s? It’s too soon!

They’re not wrong.

I suppose I should take down the Christmas tree, which has reached the death rattle phase of balsams. One touch and all the needles fall off the branch.

But I won’t.

Back to work day means back to writing the novel day. No excuses. Not even the fire hazard in the living room. Because somehow I have to discover the link between the beginning of the book and the end.

I recently encountered two different films in which the characters tell the author what to write. In one, people look at one another over the author’s head in a mutual understanding that he is quite mad. But, I must tell you, that is precisely the process: the characters do take over. It’s apparently a common—if not universal—experience of novelists, which, honestly, I find reassuring. So far as I can tell, I may be slightly silly, but not actually insane. At least, not yet.

So, today will be spent listening as much as writing.

Meanwhile, the owls are saying their good nights to one another, and the sunrise is brilliant orange against the blue night sky. I can just see the silhouettes of the roosting turkeys. Auggie snores nearby on the couch. Eli has gone back to bed without me.

My cleared desk awaits.

Off to work.

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