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We found a garden slug travelling up the garage door the other day. It was a beautiful shiny black, moving so slowly I could have gone for lunch and come back by the time he moved about twelve inches. We have them here in various colours—tan, brown, spotted, as well as black. I’ve seen them crossing our gravel driveway, and wonder what benefit there can possibly be to travel at that pace across what must seem a desert of sharp stones on a smooth slimy stomach.
On the other hand, and in contrast to the slugs, we also have the Pacific chorus frog. They are so tiny, they often back into the petals of my dahlia blooms and wait there to catch flies or mosquitoes as they fly past. They are fast, I’ve only been able to catch one in all the time we’ve lived here on the west coast—or the wet coast, as we like to say. And unlike the slugs, they are loud. In February and March when the frogs emerge from the wetlands and begin to mate, it’s hard to sleep for the noise they produce.
Writing is a lot like these two little animals. Sometimes the process is so slow, it’s like watching paint dry, and about as exciting. Other times it leaps ahead so I can hardly keep up with the flow. One book will take six long months to write. Another will pop out in six weeks, and just need another two for editing. There is no predicting it.
Life happens. So when I am working on The Last War: Book Six and halfway through I have to start reading at the beginning yet again, to get a grasp of what has happened so far and what has yet to take place, I think of the slug moving slowly across the sharp gravel. And if I ever get to a point on this book where I can leap ahead to the finish, I’ll celebrate loudly like the little chorus frog.
What little animals inhabit your world?
Halloween is almost here and I’ve just come down with a terrific cold. I can’t stop coughing and sneezing. After I blow my nose, I just have to do lean forward and it starts dripping all over again, just like a tap. Oh, well. Lots of rest, camphor and eucalyptus oil, cold pills, lemon and honey for the sore throat. Hopefully it’s gone soon, because I do love Halloween candy and you can’t eat candy when you have a cold, right?
We have had an extremely dry summer. There is an area called the flats below our house that fills with water in the fall and hosts a ton of ducks, geese, seagulls and trumpeter swans each winter—not to mention the predators like red-tail hawks, bald eagles, owls, turkey vultures that prey on them. The swans arrive between November 1st and 4th, almost as if they have calendars tied around their necks. These swans are listed in the bird books as having a low-pitched bugle with a single note. But having heard them on the flats for the last many years, I know they have a two-toned call.
This year, there’s no water down there. The creek that feeds the flats dried up in July and only last week started to show a bit of wet at the bottom of the channel. What will the birds do with no water?
Well, today it started to rain, a torrent that continued to come down all afternoon, turning to sleet tonight. I guess the birds will be fine. What does fall look like where you are?
My garden is going crazy. I have a couple of English cucumber plants and they are producing like mad. We are trying to eat one a day just so it doesn’t get too far ahead of us, and we give the rest away. Luckily the tomato plants are just as busy, so we’ve had a lot of Greek salads! 🙂 Then there are the squash plants, too many to count.
Making a batch of Squash Soup today. I got the recipe from the world famous Butchart Gardens near Victoria. It always turns out fabulous – squash, apple, carrot, celery, onion, a stick of cinnamon, not to mention a few tablespoons of curry paste. Just put it through the food processor.
What are you harvesting from your garden?
DEAD WRONG is available. Get it now! https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07G6YZ3BR/ books2read.com/DeadWRong
Like any new book, reviews are needed. Post a review, then send me an email with the link at – sylviegraysonauthor@gmail.com . You then let me know which of my other books you’d like for free, and whether you use mobi or epub. I will send it out to you right away. Easy peasy!
Excerpt from Dead Wrong—
He drove into the shadows of the old parking lot and drew his battered black pickup to a halt near the building entrance. There were a few cars scattered across the cracked blacktop but no one else was in sight. The apartment building was old, a three-floor walk-up with battered stucco-clad walls and a flat roof. It had clearly seen better days.
The sky was heavily overcast and it looked like rain was imminent. Maybe that’s why everyone was indoors on this dreary February evening. He stepped out of the cab of his truck and stared at the building, hoping Billy was home. It was time to sort out a few things that had been left untended too long. He was in no rush to begin the encounter. On second thought, knowing how Billy operated, he was better safe than sorry. He reached behind the driver’s seat to grab the tire iron.
Billy Zach was an unpredictable man. Tonight, he wasn’t going to take any chances with how this played out. But he was going to deal with the bastard, one way or the other. Why had no one stepped up to take control? This situation had gone on far too long. There were lots of people who should have challenged him over the issue of how he treated his girlfriend, but surprisingly no one had. Well, tonight there was a different agenda, and it was going to cost the asshole big time. He’d take care of things now, because it couldn’t be left any longer to chance.
As he approached the entrance, the front door opened and his target stepped out. Billy wore his usual worn denims low on his hips, feet stuffed into a pair of laceless runners. A faded green tee shirt showed beneath his heavy wool jacket. Most surprising was the bright red bruise forming in front of his left ear. Perhaps someone else had already tried to sort him out. A feeling of satisfaction settled in the man’s gut. Good timing, that’s what it was, remarkable timing to find him here like this.
“What do you want?” Billy snarled, glaring angrily as he came down the stairs. “Are you just hanging out here waiting for me? Coward! Couldn’t even knock on my door?”
“I’m no coward,” he said, determination rising in his chest. “I’ve come to give you a warning. You’d better take it to heart if you know what’s good for you.”
“Take it to heart?” Billy put back his head and laughed derisively. “What heart?” He was staring at him now, a strange penetrating gaze that sent an unwelcome shiver down the man’s backbone. “I don’t have a heart. And no measly warning from you is going to change that.”
“Forget it,” he said. “I’ve come to tell you it’s going to cost. Pay up or else. You owe me and you know it. This is your last chance…”
He suddenly lost his words because Billy took a long step forward and hit him square in the face with a closed fist. His head snapped back and he staggered as blood spurted from his nose. Before he could react, Billy took another heavy swing. At the last minute, he remembered the tire iron in his hand and aimed it squarely at the side of Billy’s head.
Zach fell, whirling in what seemed like slow motion toward the ground. The back of his skull connected with the concrete step behind him. There was a sharp crack like the sound of a hammer on tile. Billy Zach lay still.
*******
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Best, Sylvie
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