It’s been a while. It’s been a whirl. It’s been a weird, weird year, and then some.
Like many of you, I found it hard to read and write over the past eighteen months (past couple of years, really, but it doubled down with the pandemic). When I did write, I found that it was difficult, but the work was also different. More emotional. More raw. More violent. And that’s okay; I’m always going for honesty with my fiction. But I did miss being able to lose myself in reading.
My first batch of masks were…hearts! The fabric store had taken all the other cotton to mass-produce masks for the fire department.
A friend suggested that, when the lock-downs first started happening, it was a like being in Little Women, scrounging for supplies to sew masks for the cause—except we didn’t have Jo to read to us. My sewing machine lived on the kitchen table for several seasons; I tried to keep my rage against anti-maskers, and later, the anti-vaxxers, at bay by making masks, until PPE was more readily available.
Like a lot of people, at the beginning of the pandemic, I tried to work out a routine: make some masks, write some words, maybe weave a little in the evening. A lot of binge-watching. I live in a city with enough space that made it viable to go for walks, so I could get some exercise and look at the ocean. I’m so grateful for that, aware many more people didn’t have that luxury.
Not traveling—that took some getting used to. I go to so many conventions ordinarily; it seemed I was seeing friends en masse at least once a month. I usually have two year-at-glance calendars on my office door, one for this year, and one to plan the next. My taxes were much simplified because I just hadn’t attended any events in person after mid-February 2019. Like everyone, instead of making connections in airports, I learned to make connections with virtual cons. I’ve Streamyarded, Discorded, texted, Facebooked Live, Tweeted, messaged, YouTubed, and Google Met. I haven’t heard the word “Zoom” so much since public television in the 1970s (ask anyone who looks up excitedly when you sing “0-21-34!”).
This is Ulla May, a Toika “Ulla” from 1973. You know. The olden days.
A lot of folks took the lock-down to improve themselves. I didn’t learn a new language and I didn’t get ripped. I did learn how to use a spinning wheel, because a dear friend of mine generously thought of me when she needed to re-home hers, so there was an uptick in medieval-looking crafting, chez nous. Making something, anything, made a difference because it felt like progress, and any kind of progress was welcome.
This gorgeous cover was designed by Errick Nunnally!
That’s when Mr. G and I started kicking around the idea of doing some special publishing projects. I’ve published Fangborn short stories in collections and magazines and wanted to finally bring them all together. Mr. G had just retired from software and was eager to try and learn the ins and outs of various publishing platforms. With the help of my agent and his team, we began to explore this, and in January of 2021, DCLE Publishing LLC was born. Pandora’s Orphans: A Fangborn Collection (all the previously published Fangborn short stories, plus a new adventure!), came out on July 13. You can buy it here. We have a few more projects in line, so watch this space!
The pandemic isn’t over, and the havoc it wreak will be with us for a while yet. There’s a lot that needs to happen for recovery, and maybe that will help repair some other long-term societal issues at the same time. It’s all about science + compassion.
In the mean time, get your vaccination(s), wear your mask, keep plowing through your TBR, and keep trying to keep trying at whatever it is you do. Look out for each other. Take good care of yourself.
BTW? You’re doing awesome.