One of the cats, whose vet put her on a diet, insisted the first item must be to fill chow bowl with her Dickensian lunch allotment.
Ignoring that, I shall continue.
1) Write a really good book. I have written nine in my medieval series, but I am not satisfied with any of them. That is a good thing. Writing is a craft. Craft can always be perfected. And I would think the same if I won the Nobel, reached the NY Times best-seller list (well, we are all on it somewhere), or became a classic read by those long-suffering English majors.
2) Lose weight. Had to put that on the list or my vet and the aforementioned feline would never forgive me.
3) Languages. Back in the last century, when eyes and brain still functioned, I thought I’d spend retirement years learning five new languages: Norwegian, Hebrew, Russian, Italian, and Portuguese. That was when correspondence courses still offered such things. Why those? Loved Ibsen; found Latin boring but thought Hebrew would be fun; Russian because I liked the 19th century writers; wanted to read Dante in the original; fell in love with a poet whose name I can no longer remember.
4) Learn to fly. How else to get rid of a fear of flying? That will be crossed off list. Would never pass the eye exam.
5) Go around the world on a ship. Pirates. Enough said.
6) Take the train across Canada. I grew up in British Columbia but never traveled outside provincial borders. I may actually do this, especially if some writing conference opts to take place in Montreal(first choice) or Toronto (second) or the Maritimes (fun!). Hint. Hint.
7) Learn to be more devious in plotting. Each year I swear to develop my inner obfuscation. After all, I was a bureaucrat for over thirty years. Shouldn’t this come naturally? Trouble is that my job for much of that time was making legalese understandable. That was before canned paragraphs which have spread to private industry. Abort incipient rant…
8) Get more exercise. Yada, yada, yada.
9) Study classic mystery writers. As just a few examples, I have thoroughly enjoyed Sjowall/ Wahloo, Catherine Pirkis, Simenon, Buchan, and Anna Katherine Green. Lots more on my TBR pile.
10) OK. Feed the cat. She may be a butterball, but she’s now on my lap, purring...















I'd like to adopt this list, Priscilla -- except for the one about the cat. Lucky for the cat.
Posted by: Camille Minichino | June 26, 2012 at 12:45 AM
The Cat has a brother who gets the exercise in this family by playing soccer with a catnip ball at 3 AM in the hall...
Posted by: Priscilla | June 26, 2012 at 05:51 AM
I'm afraid I'd just leave The Cat on the church steps.
Posted by: Camille Minichino | June 26, 2012 at 11:16 AM
That is where Prioress Eleanor got her cat!
Posted by: Priscilla | June 26, 2012 at 11:35 AM
It's a tribute to your writing, Priscilla, that this is the longest conversation I've every had about a cat, physical or fictional.
Posted by: Camille Minichino | June 26, 2012 at 03:38 PM
I am genuinely flattered, Camille. So is The Cat...
Posted by: Priscilla | June 26, 2012 at 05:10 PM
I think your plotting is GREAT, Priscilla! You certainly fooled me with A Killing Season. Can't wait for the next!
Posted by: Ann | June 27, 2012 at 10:40 PM
Many thanks, Ann! Speaking of plotting, you do more wonderful cliffhangers than the Colorado Rockies....
Posted by: Priscilla | June 28, 2012 at 05:41 AM