Cherie Priest

Tiny Godzilla since 1975

I’d walk away like a movie star

13 hours, 39 minutes ago, mid-afternoon

Here’s today’s progress on my witchy art-deco horror novel about Lizzie Borden thirty years after her parents’ deaths – now featuring ghosts and non-ghosts alike, anti-Catholic conspiracy nuts, supernatural political shenanigans, the mafia, and a Bonus! space-worshiping murder cult hiding behind the KKK:


    Project: Chapelwood
    Deadline: October 1, 2014
    New words written: 3191 (good)
    Present total word count: 111,348



    Things accomplished in fiction: Part one of a two-part climax. That’s all you need to know. MWOOHAHAHAHA.

    Things accomplished in real life: Neighborhood jaunt with dog; several rounds of laundry, including bedding; various assorted bits of housework; Writer Business emails and so forth. Really, I’m just trying to power through and get to the end of this thing before the week’s out.

    Other: I suppose it goes without saying that this draft is going to run longer than 110,000 words. I’m guessing it’ll be more like 115,000 , so I’m adjusting the bar accordingly.

    Critter-Related Other: Today I discovered a new finch nest! Or rather…it’s not half so new as I thought, because it has at least one half-grown fluffy baby bird in it (two, I think – but I’m not sure). And this nest is right under the kitchen window, sitting in the holly shrub just a couple of feet from where I wash dishes. I have no earthly idea how I’m only just now noticing it, but it’s very cute and I’m glad that the little one(s) seem(s) to be doing well. No pictures, alas. I can’t snap one without disturbing them, and I’m not willing to do that.

    Number of fiction words so far this year: 144,341

Get a little bit suburban and go crazy

1 day, 13 hours ago, mid-afternoon

Here’s today’s progress on my witchy art-deco horror novel about Lizzie Borden thirty years after her parents’ deaths – now featuring ghosts and non-ghosts alike, anti-Catholic conspiracy nuts, supernatural political shenanigans, the mafia, and a Bonus! space-worshiping murder cult hiding behind the KKK:


    Project: Chapelwood
    Deadline: October 1, 2014
    New words written: 3459 (good)
    Present total word count: 108,057



    Things accomplished in fiction: Well, some of us have escaped the castle. Sort of.

    Things accomplished in real life: Neighborhood jaunt with dog; visit from the pest-control guys that took all day; found cool old thing buried in the yard; some business email-type-stuff.

    Pest Control Other: So this is apparently a banner year for “Norway Rats.” The whole neighborhood seems overrun with them, and Mr. Stubbs is hard-pressed to keep up with them. Mind you, I have zero interest in trapping/poisoning them; I just don’t want them trying to chew their way through my walls. Wall-chewing violates the spirit of our original agreement, to wit: “You stay out of the house, and I’ll pretend you don’t exist.” So today we had a team of pest-control folks seal out our cellar/crawlspace (to the best of human ability), and treat the attic with a special insulation that will persuade them (and their squirrelly friends) to hang out elsewhere. Or so it is to be hoped.*

    Four-Footed Other: Greyson was bereft because I wouldn’t let him go hang out with the pest-control guys while they were working, so we had to temporarily deploy the baby gate. It’s a tiny baby gate; he could step over it without even stretching his legs. But bless his heart, he’s almost comically respectful of boundaries. And later on, the guys played chase with him in the yard, so all was forgiven.

    Assorted Other: While wandering the house’s exterior and getting general updates on the “exclusion” treatment … I spotted something tangled in the roots of a tree. This something was a 2-oz. bottle with a glass rod (and its rubber stopper) stuck inside. The maker’s mark on the bottom suggests that it was produced by the Obear-Nestor Glass Company – perhaps as early as 1915 or 1920.** It very likely held medicine (like iodine), or perfume.

    (Small coffee mug for scale.)

    Number of fiction words so far this year: 141,150




* I will only trap them as a matter of last resort, but I won’t poison them, period. There are too many other things that feed on them – not least of all Mr. Stubbs and Miss Kitty, some foxes, hawks, snakes, and so forth. Also, I don’t want dead rats in the walls any more than I want live rats in the walls. So there’s that.
** For the new readers: Our house was built sometime between 1895-1904. No, we don’t know any more precisely than that. Thanks, southern record-keeping [:: eyeroll ::].

They tell me I was born there, but I really don’t remember

2 days, 15 hours ago, in the early afternoon

Here’s recent progress on my witchy art-deco horror novel about Lizzie Borden thirty years after her parents’ deaths – now featuring ghosts and non-ghosts alike, anti-Catholic conspiracy nuts, supernatural political shenanigans, the mafia, and a Bonus! space-worshiping murder cult hiding behind the KKK:


    Project: Chapelwood
    Deadline: October 1, 2014
    New words written: 3040 (pretty good)
    Present total word count: 104,598



    Things accomplished in fiction: This castle sucks ass, y’all.

    Things accomplished in real life: Neighborhood jaunts with dog; dog play-date over at a friend/neighbor’s place; housework; yardwork; naps.

    Yardwork Other: I got the new growth from those old roses lifted off the ground and affixed to trellises, yay! I also edged most of the yard with the trimmer, and did some weeding. Weeding is never glamorous, but I do love the finished result.

    (The middle rose is heavily shaded by the dogwood in the front yard. Thus it hasn’t quite matched the progress of the other two. Still, it’s going strong! Those are 5-ft. trellises, for scale. [Minus the "feet" planted in the ground.])

    Four-footed Other: Greyson’s play-date with the wildly misnamed “Cujo” went well, except for how he totally got put in his place by an 18-year-old kitty who was NOT HAVING ANY OF HIS CRAP. Or his friendship. I keep telling him he’d have more feline company if he could keep his cool upon meeting them, but, yanno. He’s still young and enthusiastic, and big and clumsy. AND FULL OF LOVE, I assure you – but it’s hard to assure a 5-pound geriatric kitty of any such thing.

    Other than that (well deserved, frankly) cat paw upside the nose, he and The Kooj (as I’ve come to think of him) had a most excellent time. They received nibbles of cinnamon rolls, and got to root around under an old garage. For dog funsies :)

    Number of fiction words so far this year: 137,991