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Overheard in the last couple of weeks:

At a restaurant: From the kitchen comes the rumbling sound of a tray of glasses being dropped, but no hint of any glass breaking. The kid at the table next to ours jumps in his seat, eyes wide and yells: “I didn’t know they have bowling here!”

In front of Oswego Hospital (I took my mom for tests): A 20-something guy, unlit cigarette in hand, approaches a 50-something woman busy puffing away, and asks for a light. She smiles and hands him her lighter and says (in a gravelly frog voice): “We’re a dying breed, kid!”

I am writing more today. You might want to, too.

November is a great book for writing a novel. Try it, you might like it.

Yesterday I wrote.

Today I have been writing.

Tomorrow I will write some more.

This is the day when you are allowed – no, encouraged – to take candy from strangers. Proceed with caution.

We are getting to a curious time of year for me…. Halloween… can’t go there yet, maybe I’ll talk about it next year.

The allergy/asthma/cold thing is better. Ran a surprisingly fast 5K Goblin Race yesterday. I still cough a lot at night, but that should improve this week.

The past week went up in smoke, between feeling punky, going to doctors, taking my mom to doctors, and other family things. Was I writing? Not as much as I wanted. And yeah, that was me a week ago, giving the speech at the Rutgers One-on-One Conference about how we have to “be writing” blah, blah, blah.

brief interlude I had a blast at Rutgers. Part of it was seeing so many old friends (not nearly enough time to hang out with them), part of it was the kinetic charge I always feel at a writer’s conference, and part of it was meeting one of my heroes: Jim Murphy. I was privileged to work with a wonderful mentee, to be in a fascinating 5 on 5 group, and they let me give a speech at the end, a speech I needed to hear as much as anyone in the room, because weeks like last week make it easy to forget I am supposed to be writing. end of interlude

So the Dark Time of the year begins midnight on Tuesday, aka Twisday, aka Tyrs day. We’ve had a taste of it this morning with whipping winds, and squalls of hail and snow. I love it…. I am much more a Dark than a Light.

What is your costume this year? Why?

That hacking noise? Is me, coughing, coughing, coughing, coughing.

Been sick for a couple of days. Trying to write is hard when nose goo drips on the keyboard. Trying to write with your face tilted skyward is harder.

I am going to drink more hot water and cozy up with my nebulizer now. Wake me up when the virus is over.

This is celebration day in the forest. Why? First, it’s a good month for things I care about:

National Reading Group Month Obvious.
Breast Cancer Awareness Month Because I enjoy being alive.
National Popcorn Popping Month Food of the gods.
National Book Month Well, yeah.
I couldn’t find any links for National Pajama Month, but this is the couture of choice for working writers.

It’s a good week, too:
Give Wildlife a Brake Week Because critters are cuter when they are not roadkill or plastered across your bumper.

They should make this Post-Teen Read Week – a week-long celebration that would be highlighted by paid leave days for YA librarians, complete with massages, brownies, and fluffy pillows

And today? Drum roll, please.
International School Library Day! ::waves at international school libraries::
National Mole Day (chemistry, not little critters)
TV Talk Show Host Day Do with this what you will.

On this day in history:
1915 – Approximately 25,000 women demanded the right to vote with a march in New York City, NY. Huzzah!

A couple of people were born on this day in history:
Michael Crichton
Ang Lee
Dwight Yoakam
Weird Al Yankovic
Doug Flutie

And me. It’s my birthday today. To celebrate with me, eat popcorn and read. (Make sure to grab a napkin to wipe your greasy fingers on if your book came from the library.)

Writer’s conference recap tomorrow, assuming my cake and ice cream hangover isn’t too bad.