#1 NYT bestselling author Linda Lael Miller
Snow? What snow? (And other stuff)

Oh, THAT snow!  It’s everywhere I look, deep and glittering in today’s welcome gift of sunshine.  Born in Spokane and raised 120 miles north, in–well–Northport, you’d think I’d be used to the white stuff.  However, after living in Arizona for 8 years, and on the coast for 20, I’m still adjusting to the weather.  What the heck.  It’s only been 11 years since I moved back!

Heartfelt thanks to all of you who sent condolences regarding the loss of my bossy kitty, Button.  Your words help a lot, and I know many of you have been down this road yourselves.  For such a small critter, he sure left a big hole in all our lives, but, as with other dogs, cats and horses that have gone on, there are plenty of smiles mixed in with the tears.  I wouldn’t have missed my year with that little guy for anything, nor would I call him back if that were possible; he’s in a much better place, as good as he had it here on the Triple L.

I’ve been writing up a–ahem–storm, enjoying my time in 1863, with my beloved characters.  It’s strange how attached I get to these story people; it would be easy to forget they’re fictional.  :)  Since “North of Eden” takes place around the battle of Gettysburg, and I basically experience the events I’m writing about, it can be tough.  No getting around it–the Civil War was brutal and bloody and, after writing one particular battle scene, I actually had to go and lie down for a while, just to recover.  Why not skip the parts that upset me?  Because it wouldn’t be honest or authentic, nor would it be fair to the good people on both sides of the conflict who fought, suffered and died, even though many years have passed.

Modern-day Gettysburg is one of my favorite places to visit, and I find it to be a peaceful place, paradoxically.  I am, like most creative people, VERY sensitive to energy, and I can feel the spirit of a location, in an intuitive way.  Certain places, like the Tower of London, Antietam Creek in Maryland and Ground Zero in New York, bring up difficult emotions; I believe it can take centuries, if not longer, for the energies of very tragic events to disperse.  Does this mean I avoid them?  No, but I really need to be up on my prayers when I visit them.  Also, given my deep interest in American history, especially the Civil War, visiting battlefields is part of doing a good job when I sit down to write.

I’ve been listening to Michael Korda’s excellent biography of Robert E. Lee, “Clouds of Glory”, for many weeks now, marking off each chapter in a special section of my bullet journal, and now I’m near the end.  Next up in the big-fat-mega-biography playlist is “American Ulysses”, by Ronald C. White, the life of Ulysses S. Grant, who, like General Lee, is one of my favorite historical figures–along with #1, Jesus of Nazareth, #2, Abraham Lincoln, #3 George Washington–well, you get the idea.  :)  Although I enjoy these hefty tomes enormously, I also regard them as research, which means they get special treatment in the bullet journal, with a square for each chapter, to be filled in with colored marker when completed, I also listen to a LOT of other kinds of books, as some of you will have already noticed reading this blog.  I love the Great Courses, which are recorded lectures by authorities on a whole kit and caboodle of subjects, the current subject being, “Medical Myths, Lies, and Half-Truths”, featuring Yale professor, Steven Novella, as a sort of counterbalance to my fascination with alternative medicine.  :)  I think it’s important to read or listen to books or courses that will challenge my ideas and views.  Novels, memoirs, and philosophy are listed as well, mainly because it gives me a satisfying sense of accomplishment to look back on my reading/listening history.  Last night, I finished “How Will I Know You?”, a thriller by Jessica Treadway, and I enjoyed it very much.

Sometimes people ask me how I can get through so many books and still write, and the answer is, I’m probably pathological in this regard.  Most writers read widely, and they’d darned well better, if they don’t want the creative well to run dry.  Words in, words out.

Just sayin’.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             


Losing Button

I adopted my long-haired gray cat, Button, last year, after the death of his original owner, now affectionately referred to in the Triple L family as First Mama.  He was twenty years old when he came to bide a while with this outfit, and frankly, I didn’t expect him to last long.  I also hesitated to take him in at first, mostly because–well–he was twenty, for heaven’s sake, and I had lost two kitties and my beloved Yorkie in the previous year, and I figured more pet-grief was about the last thing I needed.  Fortunately, though, I came to my senses, realizing that this wasn’t about me feeling sad at some point (boo-hoo, sucks to be me, NOT), it was about an elderly cat, confused and missing someone he loved, in need of a warm and welcoming home.  And so it was that Button, aka Buttingo and just plain ‘Tingo’, joined the family.  He proved to be a stately gentleman who assumed he was entitled to the best of everything, and soon enough, we all agreed–so he’d trained us all handily to do his bidding.  :)  I can’t count the times he made us laugh, or touched our hearts, or dug his claws into our thighs because he wanted up, and did not take ‘no’ for an answer.  Alas, time and a nasty respiratory infection finally caught up with our beloved visitor, and yesterday, we had to say ‘good-bye’.  Yes, there were tears, and there will be more, I know, but there is no tragedy here–Button was cherished all his long life, unlike so many of God’s creatures, and, as my old daddy would have said, he cut a mighty wide swath, that cat.  He was a gift, the kind one accepts and eventually releases, with gratitude.  I’m so glad I knew Button, and I’m at peace, knowing he’s with First Mama again.

On a happier note, there are winners in our ongoing win-an-autographed-book contest–to enter, simply comment, and you’re in.  Winners are selected at random, notified, and announced here on the blog.  Congratulations to Kelly Driver and Prairie.  How great is that name, ‘Prairie’??  There’s a story there, I’ll bet, and if we’re lucky, we might get to read it in the comment section.  :)  If you didn’t win, no worries whatsoever.  There’s a new round underway now.

The weather in the Northwest is Winter Wonderland Run Amok–snow, snow and more snow.  I’m essentially homebound, which is fine, because I have my writing, my pets and my new furnace to keep me warm.  :)    

The stitching across the toe of a cowboy boot is called a toe wrinkle.