I just made 8,500 words written at the end of Day 4 NaNoWriMo 2021
Do you prefer books in a series to be numbered on the cover?
How important it is for the reader to read in order, or would the book still be a good read if read randomly out of order? I have numbered each book in a series, on the front cover, with my historical fiction. written as Ryn Shell
I won't do it for my cozy mysteries written under a the Kathryn Shell pen name.
AM Word count, working until 4AM 6,094
wrote until 3AM to reach my word count target for NaNoWriMo day 4, so it's proving to be difficult, writing novels from within an aged care setting—with all its interruptions, but I'm still keen to try to do this. Your encouragement is greatly appreciated.
Today I bought four book covers for the new series I've begun. I'll do an early cover reveal for my Patreon's.
Life at Hepburn House.
The blossom trees outside our windows have bloomed already. Reg and I still take the occasional garden walk together, and if it is too cold to walk, with our physiotherapist presence for Reg, we enjoy the garden, hillsides, and bird and wildlife views from our windows.
A big mob of kangaroos loves the hills and valleys around us. A pair of them entertained us with a kickboxing display a couple of days ago.
The veranda garden off of Reg's room is active with baby sparrows being fed amongst the greenery, snowdrops, and marguerite daisies. Three rock orchids I brought from our 'old' house are in bloom.
Three cockatoos strut their stuff along the veranda railing, promising me I will never have to prune any plants, as they demolish anything that gets above top veranda rail height. Sigh, there went my three lilies and the rhododendron flower bud. Cheaper I suppose than bird food, to supply my plants for them. In return, we have three adoring cockatoos who love keeping us company. Well, mannered visitors, if you excuse their diet preference of delicate new sprouting of Reg and Ryn's veranda garden. They don't shit on the veranda floor. They are well trained and poop over the railings to the garden below.
The Hepburn house owners (three local legal identities,) were planning to start building a second, assisted living aged care residence catering mainly for the gay community, (but, so as not to discriminate, they haven't exceeded straight people,) on the block next door years ago. It was postponed due to the lockdown to reduce the risk of COVID-19 spread. It should begin soon. Reg might lose a couple of trees, from his view. we will gain an indoor, seniors gym plus a movie theatre, as they are planned it as a part of the new building. There will be a connection pathway between buildings.
My room looks out towards the back of Hepburn house and toward the other side, so I'll not see any of this new building. I often open my windows in the daytime to allow fresh county air into my room, then I close up and put the heater on before I come back in the evening.
I love sitting up in bed and watching the variety of birds that call the trees in my view, 'home'. My favourites being magpies in the morning chorus and the eastern rosella in its brightly coloured plumage, although even the flocks of sparrows and tiny finches are entertaining.
Daylesford, if you didn't know, is the gay, lesbian, bi, trans, and all the rest, capital of Victoria.
Many decades ago, a couple of lesbian ladies discovered life here free from harassment, so they spread the word and others facing discrimination in suburbia joined them here in live-and-let-live Daylesford. Before long Daylesford and the spa country of central Victoria became a rural community predominantly made up of lesbians.
Then, about the time I settled at Buninyong, the gay community 'discovered' Daylesford and surrounds and began opening cafes, day spas, and venues for day-trippers. The place became a mixture ($11. for a pastry at one bakery-or cross the street and buy one for $5.) of interesting cultures and varied while retaining the rustic rural charm, touristy venues in an otherwise quiet country setting.
What I love about Daylesford is that the old is treasured. There is no unwarranted restorations, nor tidying of ancient trees that remain, nor pulling down of old buildings or fences. It is all here to view and love, if you are into those relics of the past, as I am.
Boots Gully was a rather quirky local subject to paint. Doing so, helped me work through some aches and pains I was having at the time. The painting, along with excellent help from physio, Gita's massages, and tailored exercise programs.
All is well. I would rather have by active, alert, creative brain and ofter problematic body than be one of those who appear to be fit of body, but someplace else, in their mind. I'm happy enough with my lot. I think when people ask me "how I am," I'll go back to saying, "Never better." Except for Gita, I tell her the truth—because Gita has action plans that work, even if they work slowly, and progress isn't a straight line.
Well, that's my life here at Hepburn House.
Life is good. I missed my cats sometimes when I think about them. They were at times a darn nuisance, but ones I adored. I did gain more than I lost by coming here. I see that. Now I have Tess a Cavoodle, and that fulfils me.
Lots of love for now. Take care.
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