One weaves one’s own life into a book, and this one, begun in 2010, has all Jane’s illness in it, the loss of both our kittehs, and her recovery, and the arrival of Eushu and Seishi, who are so very different. It has been a year of struggle, of exhaustion, of self-doubt, midway, as I knew Jane was too sick to write, and I had no choice if we were going to pay the bills…
I honestly, for the first time since I was ten years old, thought I couldn’t write any longer—worse, I was no longer sure I wanted to. It became daily discipline, getting to work, writing ten lines, at least ten lines. I tried to impose self-discipline. I edited Chernevog on days when the current writing just couldn’t make sense to me. Crises interrupted me. I couldn’t remember what I’d written, where I was, who was whom—thank goodness for my little book of general notes.
I was happy when, after everything, Jane started decorating, first for Halloween, and then for Christmas. Our silly kittehs got into the act. Writing began to move again, but all that mess lay behind it…and I began to realize this is, for the series, an important book…
For Christmas, Jane got me—yes—a medicine cabinet. Two huge medicine cabinets. I got her two saws, from the Thanksgiving sales. And we had nowhere left to put anything and the house was a mess. We had been looking for tile—sort of—since last Christmas, in 2010. We started looking for tile in earnest. We found it. And we found not only the hole in the bathroom wall which started in 2008, became a hole in 2009, and a monster hole with plastic sheeting in 2010—we found a hole in the bathroom floor, where more water had gotten out.
Well, you know the rest. Jane started in on the job and we couldn’t afford to have it done: we could barely afford the parts. I wrote. I struggled with it. I helped Jane where she had to have help, commiserated with her when she tried to learn new skills—mudding, floor repair, plumbing which three professional plumbers and a parts shop had declared couldn’t be done differently—and had to be. My particular talent is destruction, so I smashed and stripped old tile; Jane mudded the wall. We began to think bathroom design, obsessively, and I began to lose my way again. Hell with it—we just devoted ourselves to getting that room finished. The kitchen flooded, which permanently damaged the kitchen floor. It was almost the last straw, and insurance wouldn’t pay for it. But—the insurance guy recommended a guy who was reliable for tiling. And we hired him. It was the last thing, the last learning curve, and we opted not to take it. We had him and his partner do the cut and fit—and the new countertop, and the lighting sofit. We grouted the job. Did the electrical work. And did a good job of it. Jane painted. And decorated. And her site shows the result.
Then a wonderful thing happened. If you’ve read the Russian novels, you know what a bannik is—a vodka-loving Russian bath spirit that gives you ideas and inspiration as you sit in the bath house…ideally with a jug of vodka. We swore our old house in Oklahoma City, our first house, had a class one bannik in the upstairs shower. The subsequent one wasn’t as good. And our bannik didn’t move with us up north. They don’t, really: they’re kind of homebodies.
Well, after the first bath in the new bathroom—Jane deserved the honor—she came out inspired to write, and started having ideas. She told me, and we went and got a bottle of vodka and poured a healthy dose down the bathtub drain.
I tried it. A wonderful shower. And for sure, a very good bannik.
I went back to my keyboard and threw out everything I’d done on the current book—or most of it. I treated it all as a general outline of the book, but not the book, and I began writing like crazy. For the first time since Oklahoma I wrote all out. I couldn’t leave it. I’d open it up after dinner, not to do puzzles and such while I watched television, but to keep going. And going. Same with Jane. We had a little glitch with the site upgrade, postponed since fall, and renaming her site, but we’re at it again full tilt.
I tore through that outline at the speed I can use when the bannik is in good form, and today—I have one small scene to write. And I already have half the outline of the book that follows it. And I am proud of what I’m writing. This is the book it needed to be. And I’m still doing writing and editing in the evening, both on the current book, and on the final Russian novel…featuring, yes, in a sense, a bannik.
So it’s all good news today. We’re back in good form. The kitchen floor is going to wait. More yard work is going to wait. Even the accounting looks surmountable. We’re not going to agonize over it in the annual fit of lost papers. We’re going to take one day, and get our personal accounts shipped off to the accountant—and then get back to writing; and then take another day and get the corporate accounts shipped off. And back to writing.
Life is good. And I think you’ll like this book.
Doubt there’ll be yardwork today here, between Hillsboro and Portland. We got an inch of snow overnight.
Oh, lordy, what great news! Not just the books, but the state of minds. I am so happy to hear about the bannik and all!
Yep—two inches of snow here, and still sifting down, but I think it’s stopping.
Thank you, Kokipy!
And what bannik would not be delighted to have that bathroom to hang out in! I’m very happy to hear that things are going well.
To your (both of you) good health, and to the bannnik!
I’m so happy for you. Last year was a bitch for me too; your perseverance has been an inspiration for me. I’m retiring, reluctantly, from a state job, with my pension under attack and a personal fear that I’ll do nothing but lie around on the couch. But Forward and Excelsior are words to live by, and Life is Change my current motto.
I look forward to the new book, and Chernevog for my ereader. I’ll hope for a good bannik when I replace my bath tub with a walk-in show.
Oh, it’s not so hard to keep busy in retirement. 😉 Time flies by so fast!
Wonderful!
Just. Freaking. Yay.
🙂
This is the very best news!
Happy Dance for you and Jane…..and the bannik (Are they named?…..or os a name too powerful to share?)
Last year was not great for me either…I finally got through by setting a project for myself and slogging through. Creative roadblocks are a PITA and terrifying…….nothing like waking up in the middle of the night wondering if you are ever going to have and orginal, creative idea again. So very, VERY glad you are both through to another place.
Wonderful that everything is going so well for you both ! Can’t wait to read the new book, just finished Intruder and loved it.
Joco ane an’ a’ thegither
Blyther tassin’ a’
Mon tha’ bannik skelp thon kelpie
Blyther tassin’ a’
Please translate, bob 🙂
*Scots*
Joco: happy, cheerful, or very pleased with yourself – can also have the sense of unperturbed, relaxed.
ane an’: one and
a’: all.
thegither: together.
Blyther: happy, jolly.
tassin’: drinking.
Mon tha’: may that.
bannik: benevolent water spirit.
Skelp: strike, beat.
kelpie: malevolent water spirit ( that has been lurkin’ in the bathroom since 2008)
Thanks, bob! I heartily agree, Blyther tassin’ a’!
Such wonderful news, CJ! I too just finished Intruder and eagerly await the next installment!
I’m soooo glad that your bannick is enjoying itself in the new bathroom! And really, there’s nothing quite like a good inspirational soak! 🙂
DONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
YAY!!!!!!!!!!
Has it a title yet?
This is exciting. I feel happy for you.
I am just now finishing Destroyer, so I have a ways to go. I feel happy for me!
Suggest you join the bannik an’ finish that bottle.
Blyther tassin CJ!
Tell DAW to hurry up with it !!!
Like next week!
What a pleasure reading this post, to know that the two of you are feeling good about your lives again.
Raesean
email cj@cherryh.com
Willie is FSA (Scot)
I e-mailed CJ re. my interest (and qualifications) for FSAScot last Saturday (or so) from my college e-mail: did you get it? Glad to hear that Willie G. is indeed an FSA too. I’ll e-mail again.
No. But CJs been Authoring. Note: Willie uses FSA (Scot) as the post-nominal. The Society kept sending us mail saying FSAScot (No Space, No Brackets) was the correct usage.Except! All our mail from the Society, was and still, uses FSA Scot (with space). You takes your choice!
Raesean, I thought I sent it, but who knows, this last week: can you re-send to me—and I surely will forward it to Bob.
Do they care what brand of Vodka? I think all I have is some Ukrainian hot pepper vodka…
Happiness! After such a year, you two deserve a break. Good to see Jane back at her writing too.