Back–and as Always, in Black

I departed sunny Florida on Sunday, the fourth, leaving behind a huge, four-bedroom house, a hot tub, fully functional indoor climate control, and some of the prettiest, sunniest days I have ever witnessed. I arrived back on the good ol’ Eastern Shore fifteen hours later, and haven’t seen the sun since. It’s been rainy, drizzly and cold. The wind blew so hard while we were gone that bits of our exposed insulation popped out of the studs. Currently, the rain is pinging against the vent pipe of the pellet stove, reminding me with every drop that I’m not in Oz, anymore. Still, I’m happy. My low ceilings feel cozy and snug compared to the soaring ten, twelve foot ceilings in my brother-in-law’s house. My trailer-width living room glows softly with the combined ambiance of the firelight and red-lighted Christmas tree–no, I haven’t taken it down, yet. My books, stacked up in piles as they are, are a welcome sight after spending a week in a house where the only books to be found were on a tiny kids’ shelf, and another private collection consisting of only James Patterson novels.

Don’t get me wrong. I had fun down there. There was horseback riding–something I haven’t done for nearly twenty years. I scuffed the crap out of my combat boots climbing an orange tree to reach a handful of huge, perfectly ripe fruits. I took photographs as my extended family raised a cloud of dust chasing chickens in a vain attempt to get my mother-in-law’s rooster some company. I raided a cigar shop for boxes and came out loaded with many containers which have since solved my desktop organizational issues–one even holds my beloved index cards. On New Year’s Eve I tasted some white lightening, got in the hot tub, and then bore witness to a drunken old man (who, despite my evil inclinations to do otherwise, shall not be named) stripping down to his ultra brief-briefs and climbing in to join me. I think I might be a little mentally scarred from that one, though.

Now I’m back, mercifully without a trace of suntan, and am ready to hit this year full force. I’ll be putting Resonance in the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award contest this February. I’m not expecting much to come of it, but one never knows which way the winds might blow. I’ll also be hitting up some more agents in the next few weeks and moving forward with my next two novels. The insane asylum which was my computer room is now much more conducive to creativity–mostly thanks to the Architect, who finished insulation in the attic/loft, so I could move some shit around and make space for more clutter storage.

Despite the persistent gloom outside my windows, I’m in a pretty optimistic mood. My favorite sore point, Captain Jackass, has his days numbered at thirteen, and then we’ll have a brand new sheriff in town. For being such a pessimistic stick-in-the-mud, I’m surprisingly giddy/hopeful about our new administration. Of course, the economy is the big nasty hiding under the bed for all of us, but, the way I figure, even if jobs go away and my house is taken back and everything material goes in the shitter, it’s still just stuff. As long as I have the Architect and my kitties, everything else is just stuff. And I’m pretty sure I can get more of that somewhere along the way.

Yeah. I’m ready to move forward, and I don’t mind sayin’ I’m feelin’ pretty groovy.

About Avery

I am a roller derbying, dark fantasy author. This blog chronicles my adventures in life, writing and skating. View all posts by Avery

8 responses to “Back–and as Always, in Black

  • Avery DeBow

    Steve-O — You know how to make a girl feel welcome.Laughingwolf — Thanks for the well wishes, I’ll be a’needin’ ’em.

  • laughingwolf

    sounds like good time ahead, av… and g’luck with the amazon entry🙂

  • Steve Malley

    Yaaaaaayyyyyyyyyy, good to have ya back!!You have been… missed.

  • Avery DeBow

    First off, thanks so much to everyone who dropped by to wish me a happy New Year while I was gone. Your merry blessings put a warm little cinder in the center of my shriveled, crusty, cold heart.Christina — It was nice, wasn’t it? Forced away from everything? As for the books, I wish there had been something there I wanted to read. Fortunately, trips to both Costco and an antique store fed my need while I was down there.Sidney — I can never understand, either. I had a friend growing up whose mother only collected Danielle Steel. Row after row, shelf after shelf of exactly proportioned, tropically hued bindings edged with gold bands. It was a bizarre sight to behold, like my grandparents’ collection of Reader’s Digest Condensed Books–something unnatural to all that conformity and matching, I think. My book collection is a train wreck of childhood favorites, antique classics and a mishmash of paperbacks and hardbacks of all ilks.Charles — Well, of the hot tub incident, I can say at least this; it was memorable. I’m happy to be back and ready to go, though. Glad to see you’re still alive during back-to-school prep.Lana — Thanks; I’m hoping for the best and expecting the worst. I guess that same notion goes along with your following comments, as well. I figure with nothing positive anywhere right now and with little the majority of us can do to change any of it, I might as well make the inside of my skull a comforting place to be.

  • Lana Gramlich

    Best of luck with the Amazon contest! I’m glad you’re feeling “up.” I’m envious. I haven’t been feeling very up lately, myself. I think I’m just reevaluating things. Seeing the extremely red financial bottom line for my art business through 2008 was a bit of a hit…

  • Charles Gramlich

    hot tub incident aside, it sounds like you had a very nice break/trip. Reenergized for a new year. Yeah!

  • Sidney

    Interesting trip, it sounds. I can identify with the stacks of books and never can quite understand people who have only brand-name books.

  • Christina

    We both took a super long winter break, but I agree, I’m so happy to be home among my collection of books. It’s hard being around other people’s book collections because I want to borrow them.

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