A picture of morning. Not this morning. Yesterday. This morning is still dark.

At what age does a life become dispensable? (From my novel THE AGE OF THE CHILD, which asks that question in its own way.)

The closed door is supposed to keep her from distracting me when I’m writing. She, this adorable mutt, is why I went to Starbucks to write my last book.

Well, I watched the WD finale and am DISAPPOINT. No spoilers, but shoulda gone Sopranos. That’s all I’ll say. I swear.

Ever since getting a space heater (a little faux wood burning stove) I want to go door to door and ask people if they've heard the good news about space heaters. I love this thing.

For the first time, I'm experiencing the joy and freedom of having two novels to work on at the same time. Don't want to work on one? Why, there's this other one that seems like a lot more fun right now - do that, instead!

Are my husband and I the only ones still watching The Walking Dead? We didn't see the finale last night, but we're having Final Episode Celebration quesadillas tonight when we finally get to it. Nothing like throat-tearing and skin-eating during dinner.

I’m still days new, so forgive this Q, but is the first rule of CoSo that we don’t talk about CoSo? I only see people on the bird app talking about going to mastodon.

They did romantic comedies so much better in the ‘70s. Can’t say they set people up with expectations for dreamboat forever love. See WAITER, THERE’S A GIRL IN MY SOUP; A TOUCH OF CLASS; and SAME TIME NEXT YEAR.

#caturday

I've had cats all my life, but none are as missed as much as this one. Which makes me feel really guilty re: my other cats. (Parents with a favorite child must have it easier because they usually die before their kids do, removing the post-death "should have loved them more while they were alive" self-flagellation.)

First day. I look forward to the day all of this looks and feels familiar and I'm not staring at the screen like WHUT.