sounds of silence

Right now it's me and Simon & Garfunkel.  Bob's on his walk, Bud's running errands, Thea and Brian are with his folks and Jay and her posse have gone to retrieve a vacuum.  She borrowed ours and returned it a bit dodgy.  My sister Lynn took the kids' hoover in summer, as there just wasn't room for it in my car or the moving truck when we moved Jay and Bud back to the Bay Area.  Lynn and her husband fell in love with the Dyson, a marvel of British engineering.  Aware that Jay would trek north for said hoover, Lynn got a new one, and now mine won't be subjected to what a houseful of girls and guys traipse across the cream carpet.

That has little to do with writing, only an anecdote.  Also indicative of the coming year; people making their own lives, vacuuming their own houses.  Thea and Brian will be sorting their own domain soon enough, Jay pleased as punch at her place.  Bud's happy to hang out with us folks, and his presence is a pleasure.  The goiter is gone (good riddance!) and life goes on.  Christmas with all my kids was fabulous, watching Doctor Who, then Bob's Packers grabbed another victory!  New books await my attention, a lovely teapot from Bud gracing my morning brew, no drips from the spout!  Then Christmas ends, Boxing Day to follow; Bob and I took a drive after breakfast with Thea and Brian, a little shopping for reduced festive gift wrap, bows and tags.  Then more footie last night, but by then it was quiet.  Just myself and the husband, snuggled close.  Not as in years past when small children clamored and whooped; time moves along, providing new joys, different thrills.  I'm looking at 2012 with similar eyes; I'll always be a writer, but now I'm a publisher too and I can't wait to note that avenue.

I had coffee this morning with my delightful buddy Julie Rose.  She's looking at the new year with excitement, her second novel Oleanna to be released at the end of January.  We chatted about Christmas, Doctor Who, indie publishing, and I left with such a warm spirit.  Also questions, some of which I'll soon expound, as well as more about Julie's new novel.  As this year was spent jumping into the independent publishing pond, 2012 will explore that pool's dimensions, tiptoeing along the edges, feeling how deep it goes.  Pretty far down, I would imagine, as far as I want to take it.

Indie publishing is here to stay, for which I am so grateful!  Technology offers wide possibilities for writers, but it's about the writing, it has to be.  Which I have done in copious doses for the last couple of years; time for me to reap the benefits of all that typing.  As this year comes to a close, I have a novel to finish, editing that never ends.  But these last quiet days have been necessary, sounds not familiar to life as a writer.  Then Bob returns from his walk; his newly freed air passages spur his legs, causing slight knee issues.  Rockabilly and doo-wop spill from his PC; those are some of the usual tones.  I'm hoping to tackle some editing this afternoon, the soothing tap tap tap of my fingers on keys, leading 2011 to a satisfying conclusion.  A proper end-of-year post is in the works, but for now I'm slowly returning to the land of writing.  And publishing.  And whatever else comes along...