cate_morgan (cate_morgan) wrote,
cate_morgan
cate_morgan

In Which We Are Thankful (#ROW80)

Or, Pass The Stuffing. And A Large Spoon.

'Tis the season to express thanks to the Universe At Large, lest it decide you are an ungrateful schlub and take it all away, or cancel your reservation at the Restaurant at the End of its constantly expanding/contracting borders. (What is Out There, do you think, besides the ever elusive truth? Sushi, I hope. And large, rainbow-colored rum drinks with a fruit salad in it and little umbrellas to keep the ice from melting.) And for those who have never read Douglas Adams, get thee to a bookstore or library forthwith. You'll thank me.

Ahem. And now, Things I Am Thankful For, Verily:

1.  This year I made my first sale, Brighid's Cross, to Samhain Publishing. Everyone involved has been helpful and friendly and pretty darn-tootin' wunnerful. Maybe I'll be able to grow up to be a writer after all, sans the growing up part.

2.  Stunt Cate, who has gotten me through many a sticky wicket, and with bountiful laughter. My only regret is that she no longer shares my Evol Daye Jobbe, an invaluable bonus.

3. The Tech Monkey: Surely happiness is a spouse who Gets It, or when they don't, Appreciates It anyway. He's kept me in working computers, incredible cooking, and magically accomplished Evol Housework so I can get on with the writing. When curious folk ask him what his wife does, he does not invoke Evol Daye Jobbe, but states, quite assertively, that she is, in fact, A Writer. Because clearly that is what I am.

4.  Anne McCaffery, who died recently at age 85. When I was twelve I was laid up from May to August with, quite possibly, the worst broken leg EVAR. Because there are consquences of being hit by a car while crossing the street from getting off the school bus in front of one's very house and mother, who suffers from panic and anxiety disorder on a grand Irish scale. Because nothing Irish is ever done on anything but a grand scale, up to and including tea and Guinness, and, of course, broken legs. Wheelchair and couch bound, my silently sympathetic stepfather gave me some of his old sci-fi paperbacks to help pass the time. One was Dune, another Larry Niven's Dream Park. The rest was mainly Anne McCaffery, and hoo-da-lally, what an experience THAT was. It was the very first inkling that Writing Was Kewl, in a sense that playing D&D at the time was, in fact, not.

All things considered, I am an exceptionally lucky Writer Monkey. As a wee Monkey there were certain things I knew I wanted in my life, and other things not so much, and it's worked out pretty well so far, though in often strange ways. For those who don't believe Everything Happens For A Reason, well . . . have a drink and pull up a chair. Have I got some stories for you.

And now, Your Moment of Thanksgiving Awesome:


Tags: row80, thanksgiving
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