I’m behind schedule. It’s my own internal schedule that I’m behind. I am not behind on any actual deadlines, thank Gods. I’m fairly certain this is the first time I’ve fallen behind even on a mental deadline I’ve set.
Remember that prologue I was working on? I spent about a week or so working on it only to come to the conclusion that 1) it wasn’t right for the story and 2) it seriously just wasn’t working. The first time I realized it wasn’t working was when I hit a point where I was on the verge of tears. I stepped away from the book, to give myself some breathing room and time to calm down. Perhaps, I was being too critical. Once I calmed down, I went back to work on it. A few days later, I hit that point of utter frustration again. It was then that I realized I wasn’t being overly critical.
Why didn’t the prologue work after I spent two hours mulling over it before even putting pen to paper? I cannot say. I can only say that from my perspective, it didn’t. It didn’t feel right. There are things that play out better in our minds than they do on paper. You have to be able to judge the worth of a scene and some times, in order to do that, you’ve got to pour it out and see how it dances on page. It danced well enough, but I was not happy with it. A prologue should bring something to a story and I felt it took away more than it gave. In my eyes, it lacked that certain je ne sais quoi.
Once I stopped trying to force something that wasn’t working – Guess what? I found a path that worked. Go figure, that.
If I’d accepted the fact that it wasn’t working the first time, then I probably wouldn’t have fallen behind schedule. My determination to try and make it work got the best of me.
As in life, there are times in writing when you come to a crossroad. While my muse stood, pointing to a specific path and offering guidance, I stubbornly turned around and ventured into a dark cave, only to emerge some hours later with a sour look and disheveled hair.
There are times when determination can work in your favor. Yet, there are also times when, in order to succeed, you have to know how to relent.
Blessings,
Winter
March 27, 2010
March 17, 2010
When the Muse Calls.
I slept worth crap the other night. My girlfriend got called in to work and had to work overnight. One would think that having the entire bed to oneself would inspire a dose of good night’s sleep, but it was not so. I slept lightly and kept waking up every couple of hours. I couldn’t tell you how much sleep I actually got, only that it was not much.
I didn’t sleep well last night, either. After getting up at seven-something the following morning, I didn’t fall asleep until after three in the morning. My mind was working and my muse was whispering. It’s been a while since the muse has actually kept me awake. I believe, the last time it happened I was either working on Witch Wolf or Raven Mask. But last night, after so little sleep the night before, being kept awake by my muse was a blessing and a curse. Perhaps, I should be more specific. What do I mean when I say that my muse kept me awake? Well, for one, I couldn’t pull my mind away from Epiphany’s story. I finished the book a week or so ago. I finished my basic edits and now I’ve got rewrites to do. I went to bed knowing that I would wake up this morning and begin work on the rewrites. I’ve only got so much time to get the rewrites done before my editor sends me the edits for Raven Mask.
One of the pieces of, “rewrites,” that I need to do is a prologue. When I crawled in bed to try to go sleep last night, it was like there was a secret button in my pillow that said: Epiphany – On.
My mind swung into Epiphany’s tone of voice. I laid there listening to myself narrate the prologue from beginning to freaking end. The lack of sleep made the images clearer. Yes, when writing I do a lot of visualization. It’s kind of like watching a movie play out in the back of my mind. All of the books I’ve written, I’ve written in the first person narrative. The scenes that kept flashing in the back of my mind last night were more third person. Interesting, that is. Oh yes, I remember the scenes very vividly, even though I was completely and utterly exhausted. I remember the dialogue and the visuals like the events of a very clear dream, that upon waking, cling to one’s mind and skin.
Does that mean that I’ll write the prologue as it played out in my head? No, I know I won’t transcribe it word for word, but having it run through my mind last night gave me a good outline for where to start this morning. I’ll alter the scenes as I see fit once I sit down to work.
I liked the prologue, though. What amuses me is that I laid there for a good two hours. Two hours lying there, listening to my own inner voice narrate and choreograph various scenes in a specific order. At one point, I nearly launched myself out of the bed to write it down. There is very good reason most authors keep a pen and notebook beside the bed. I don’t keep a pen and notebook directly by the bed. If I want it, I’ve got to get up, avoid feline speed bumps, and find it in the dark by memory. I’ve done it before, but last night I was not up to climbing out of the warm bed and freezing my butt off just to write it down. I also knew that if I got up, I’d interrupt the flow and only find myself dragged down by sheer exhaustion.
It wasn’t until the last sentence of the prologue, until Epiphany’s closing statement floated through my mind like a voice whispering in the dark that I finally relaxed and gave myself permission to fall asleep. Yes, it’s a little frustrating when you’re hellaciously tired and desperately craving some sleep, but in the end, it was well worth it. The scenes are still fresh, filed away and tucked away in a corner of my mind, ready to be used. If I’d taken control of my thoughts and stopped the scenes, I’d have really missed out on some interesting stuff.
I got about five hours of sleep. I woke unexpectedly to very soft fur sliding across my hand. I felt Sloan open his mouth, brushing his feline lips across my fingers. I wasn’t petting him in my sleep, but apparently, he saw my hand flung out and decided to use it without my consent. I opened my eyes and all I saw was his shadowy outline. I opened my eyes and thought, “You are seriously not waking me up just to pet you.”
I don’t know how my girlfriend does it. When she sleeps, she sleeps under a blanket of kitties. I’ll knock the cats off of me in my sleep. I can’t stand being pinned in by them. I have to admit, Lonz, one of our boys once woke me in a wonderful fashion one time. My shirt must’ve been wrinkled, because he has this thing about ‘smoothing out wrinkles.’ I woke to him standing on my back giving me back massage. It was a much better to wake up than his other ‘wake-up the human,’ tactics. His other tactics involve head-bunting roughly enough that I have to turn my face into the pillow to avoid a sore nose. Another of his favorites is laying down on one side of me just to flop with a heavy flourish to the other. One morning, I had the pleasure of cracking my eyes open just in time to watch him flop right over the edge of the bed and to the floor below.
Now, if only we could train him to wake me with a back massage every morning and train one of the other cats to bring me coffee - that would be marvelous.
Blessings,
Winter
I didn’t sleep well last night, either. After getting up at seven-something the following morning, I didn’t fall asleep until after three in the morning. My mind was working and my muse was whispering. It’s been a while since the muse has actually kept me awake. I believe, the last time it happened I was either working on Witch Wolf or Raven Mask. But last night, after so little sleep the night before, being kept awake by my muse was a blessing and a curse. Perhaps, I should be more specific. What do I mean when I say that my muse kept me awake? Well, for one, I couldn’t pull my mind away from Epiphany’s story. I finished the book a week or so ago. I finished my basic edits and now I’ve got rewrites to do. I went to bed knowing that I would wake up this morning and begin work on the rewrites. I’ve only got so much time to get the rewrites done before my editor sends me the edits for Raven Mask.
One of the pieces of, “rewrites,” that I need to do is a prologue. When I crawled in bed to try to go sleep last night, it was like there was a secret button in my pillow that said: Epiphany – On.
My mind swung into Epiphany’s tone of voice. I laid there listening to myself narrate the prologue from beginning to freaking end. The lack of sleep made the images clearer. Yes, when writing I do a lot of visualization. It’s kind of like watching a movie play out in the back of my mind. All of the books I’ve written, I’ve written in the first person narrative. The scenes that kept flashing in the back of my mind last night were more third person. Interesting, that is. Oh yes, I remember the scenes very vividly, even though I was completely and utterly exhausted. I remember the dialogue and the visuals like the events of a very clear dream, that upon waking, cling to one’s mind and skin.
Does that mean that I’ll write the prologue as it played out in my head? No, I know I won’t transcribe it word for word, but having it run through my mind last night gave me a good outline for where to start this morning. I’ll alter the scenes as I see fit once I sit down to work.
I liked the prologue, though. What amuses me is that I laid there for a good two hours. Two hours lying there, listening to my own inner voice narrate and choreograph various scenes in a specific order. At one point, I nearly launched myself out of the bed to write it down. There is very good reason most authors keep a pen and notebook beside the bed. I don’t keep a pen and notebook directly by the bed. If I want it, I’ve got to get up, avoid feline speed bumps, and find it in the dark by memory. I’ve done it before, but last night I was not up to climbing out of the warm bed and freezing my butt off just to write it down. I also knew that if I got up, I’d interrupt the flow and only find myself dragged down by sheer exhaustion.
It wasn’t until the last sentence of the prologue, until Epiphany’s closing statement floated through my mind like a voice whispering in the dark that I finally relaxed and gave myself permission to fall asleep. Yes, it’s a little frustrating when you’re hellaciously tired and desperately craving some sleep, but in the end, it was well worth it. The scenes are still fresh, filed away and tucked away in a corner of my mind, ready to be used. If I’d taken control of my thoughts and stopped the scenes, I’d have really missed out on some interesting stuff.
I got about five hours of sleep. I woke unexpectedly to very soft fur sliding across my hand. I felt Sloan open his mouth, brushing his feline lips across my fingers. I wasn’t petting him in my sleep, but apparently, he saw my hand flung out and decided to use it without my consent. I opened my eyes and all I saw was his shadowy outline. I opened my eyes and thought, “You are seriously not waking me up just to pet you.”
I don’t know how my girlfriend does it. When she sleeps, she sleeps under a blanket of kitties. I’ll knock the cats off of me in my sleep. I can’t stand being pinned in by them. I have to admit, Lonz, one of our boys once woke me in a wonderful fashion one time. My shirt must’ve been wrinkled, because he has this thing about ‘smoothing out wrinkles.’ I woke to him standing on my back giving me back massage. It was a much better to wake up than his other ‘wake-up the human,’ tactics. His other tactics involve head-bunting roughly enough that I have to turn my face into the pillow to avoid a sore nose. Another of his favorites is laying down on one side of me just to flop with a heavy flourish to the other. One morning, I had the pleasure of cracking my eyes open just in time to watch him flop right over the edge of the bed and to the floor below.
Now, if only we could train him to wake me with a back massage every morning and train one of the other cats to bring me coffee - that would be marvelous.
Blessings,
Winter
February 13, 2010
Character Haze.
I’m writing this blog before I sit down to do a read-through on Epiphany’s story. No, I’m not finished with it just yet, but the end is drawing near. I need to sit down and feel my way through it. Why would I need to feel my way through it? When working on a story I may hit a point where I'm too deeply involved to see things clearly. When I sit down to do a read-through it helps me to see past the character haze. Also, Epiphany has surprised me more than once. She’s not the most easily understood character that resides in my head. She has her moments when she’s very clear and when she’s incredibly frustrating. I’ve learned to sit back and ride it out, to trust my subconscious, my muse, and my characters. The more you fight, the less progress you make. Some times, you have to relinquish a little control.
In the beginning, I learned that Epiphany was a plot gobbler. What does that mean? It means that any predetermined idea I had about what was going to happen and how it was going to happen generally ended up flying out the window. She likes to do her own thing, my Epiphany.
Her book doesn’t write like Kassandra’s. I’ve noticed some unexpected differences. I’ve been able to listen to music while working on Epiphany’s story, from Lacuna Coil to Joan Osborne. Kassandra demands my full attention. I usually never write with music playing in the background with her. It’s more of a hindrance than a pleasure. One of the other differences is that I always feel more in the loop with Kassandra. There have been moments in Epiphany’s story where, instead of feeling like I was sitting in the passenger seat beside her, I felt like I was in the trunk wondering where the Hel we were going. Then, we would arrive at our destination (my ‘aha’ moment) and I would find myself pleasantly surprised (after being tense and frustrated).
Then again, should I really have expected a vampire (character or no) to lay all of her cards on the table? Probably not....
For those of you interested in photography or looking for a photographer, check out TenAcious Studios' new website. Their photography is absolutely amazing.
Here’s the website: TenAcious Studios
It's time to go see which path Epiphany is going to choose.
Blessings,
Winter
In the beginning, I learned that Epiphany was a plot gobbler. What does that mean? It means that any predetermined idea I had about what was going to happen and how it was going to happen generally ended up flying out the window. She likes to do her own thing, my Epiphany.
Her book doesn’t write like Kassandra’s. I’ve noticed some unexpected differences. I’ve been able to listen to music while working on Epiphany’s story, from Lacuna Coil to Joan Osborne. Kassandra demands my full attention. I usually never write with music playing in the background with her. It’s more of a hindrance than a pleasure. One of the other differences is that I always feel more in the loop with Kassandra. There have been moments in Epiphany’s story where, instead of feeling like I was sitting in the passenger seat beside her, I felt like I was in the trunk wondering where the Hel we were going. Then, we would arrive at our destination (my ‘aha’ moment) and I would find myself pleasantly surprised (after being tense and frustrated).
Then again, should I really have expected a vampire (character or no) to lay all of her cards on the table? Probably not....
For those of you interested in photography or looking for a photographer, check out TenAcious Studios' new website. Their photography is absolutely amazing.
Here’s the website: TenAcious Studios
It's time to go see which path Epiphany is going to choose.
Blessings,
Winter
Raven Mask.
“I stared down at the lifeless body of a boy whose face was all too familiar…”
Following the execution of Lukas Morris, Preternatural Private Investigator Kassandra Lyall told herself that she’d learn more about the local werewolf pack’s Alpha female. Just as she begins her investigation, she’s interrupted by a phone call from friend and ex-colleague, Detective Arthur Kingfisher. The body of a sixteen-year-old boy has been found. It’s not just any sixteen-year-old boy, it’s Timothy Nelson, a boy Kassandra knew was curious about the preternatural.
When Timothy’s body disappears during transport, Kassandra’s questions only increase. She realizes that Timothy’s death serves as a challenge, but it’s not a challenge directed at her. It’s a challenge aimed at her lover, the Countess vampire of Oklahoma, Lenorre.
While Kassandra tries to figure out if Timothy’s curiosity was his undoing, the biggest question of all remains unanswered. Is Timothy Nelson dead or undead?
The Second Book in the Kassandra Lyall Preternatural Investigator Series.
February 5, 2010
Sunlight and Horror.
The sunlight tricked my body awake this morning. I woke partially, tried to roll over to go back to sleep, and opened my eyes to find that there was sunlight streaming into the room. It hasn’t truly been sunny for about a week now. We’ve had quite a few grey clouds. For some reason, the sunlight made me think it was later than it actually was. I rolled over to look at the clock, thinking that it was around eleven, to see it was only a little after nine.
So, here I am, once again armed with a mug of coffee.
I got some work done yesterday on Epiphany’s story. I am working on two books, the third book in the Kassandra Lyall Series as well as Epiphany’s story. Epiphany’s story is much different. Where the KL Series has strong mystery and paranormal romance elements, I describe Epiphany’s story as erotic horror and fantasy.
I have to admit, I have a hard time referring to my books as horror. There are a lot of people that consider any book with supernatural creatures in it such as vampires and werewolves horror, but it’s always hard for me to really look at the genre I write and think it’s something meant to inspire fear. And that is probably why I have a hard time acknowledging the label of horror when it comes to my books. I don’t intentionally set out to evoke fear in a reader. If it happens, it happens, but I’d personally rather evoke a deep-seated interest and a care for the characters than someone picking up the book and saying, “Oh, this is scary.”
That’s not to say there are not scary elements or grotesque things in the KL Series. Kassandra is a Preternatural Private Investigator that works with the local police department. She helps solve crimes that revolve around the mysterious preternatural. There are passages in the book that will make the squeamish squirm. Maybe, Kassandra rubs off on me when I’m working on the books and I overlook the fear factor involved, because she doesn't squirm.
If you're wondering, “Are the books scary?” My response to that is, “That depends on what scares you.”
So, why would I pin the label of Erotic Horror Fantasy on Epiphany’s story? Well, for one, there’s a great deal more erotic content than I had anticipated. I’ll start with that. The eroticism in the books is not like some sweet candy that melts in your mouth. It’s sensuous, but in a darker way. Like licorice, it has a sharper bite to it. Epiphany’s tastes aren’t what most people would consider, ‘usual,’ or even ‘normal.’ She’s a two-hundred year old vampire that has had plenty of time to work through and accept her own darker desires and cravings.
Epiphany’s story revolves around a clan of vampires. Some of those vampires are not ones you’d want to invite over for dinner, because they’d slit your throat without blinking and conjure a sincere smile while doing it. In a society with those types of vamps, Epiphany has learned to be silent and inconspicuous. She’s spent over a century living in servitude, playing the role of the submissive, and tip-toeing like a quiet mouse amongst a pride of lions. She lives in a world where the nasty bad guys are too close for comfort and watching her every move. It’s a world where one has a difficult time discerning friend from foe. The fantasy element just happened. Perhaps, it was my subconscious way of giving Epiphany a light in so much darkness, but it is there and plays a major role. There are ancient magics and powers that can work for Epiphany, instead of against her. Her story is one filled with love and lust, fear and betrayal. Yet, at the heart of it all lurks a different brand of redemption. To avoid spoiling any surprises - that's all I am going to say.
I mentioned in the last blog that I would have more news soon and I do. The Second Book in the Kassandra Lyall Preternatural Investigator Series, Raven Mask, is scheduled for release by Bold Strokes Books, September 13, 2010.
So, not only do you guys get Witch Wolf in June, but you have only a little over two months to wait for the release of the second book.
That’s pretty nifty, isn’t it?
Blessings,
Winter
So, here I am, once again armed with a mug of coffee.
I got some work done yesterday on Epiphany’s story. I am working on two books, the third book in the Kassandra Lyall Series as well as Epiphany’s story. Epiphany’s story is much different. Where the KL Series has strong mystery and paranormal romance elements, I describe Epiphany’s story as erotic horror and fantasy.
I have to admit, I have a hard time referring to my books as horror. There are a lot of people that consider any book with supernatural creatures in it such as vampires and werewolves horror, but it’s always hard for me to really look at the genre I write and think it’s something meant to inspire fear. And that is probably why I have a hard time acknowledging the label of horror when it comes to my books. I don’t intentionally set out to evoke fear in a reader. If it happens, it happens, but I’d personally rather evoke a deep-seated interest and a care for the characters than someone picking up the book and saying, “Oh, this is scary.”
That’s not to say there are not scary elements or grotesque things in the KL Series. Kassandra is a Preternatural Private Investigator that works with the local police department. She helps solve crimes that revolve around the mysterious preternatural. There are passages in the book that will make the squeamish squirm. Maybe, Kassandra rubs off on me when I’m working on the books and I overlook the fear factor involved, because she doesn't squirm.
If you're wondering, “Are the books scary?” My response to that is, “That depends on what scares you.”
So, why would I pin the label of Erotic Horror Fantasy on Epiphany’s story? Well, for one, there’s a great deal more erotic content than I had anticipated. I’ll start with that. The eroticism in the books is not like some sweet candy that melts in your mouth. It’s sensuous, but in a darker way. Like licorice, it has a sharper bite to it. Epiphany’s tastes aren’t what most people would consider, ‘usual,’ or even ‘normal.’ She’s a two-hundred year old vampire that has had plenty of time to work through and accept her own darker desires and cravings.
Epiphany’s story revolves around a clan of vampires. Some of those vampires are not ones you’d want to invite over for dinner, because they’d slit your throat without blinking and conjure a sincere smile while doing it. In a society with those types of vamps, Epiphany has learned to be silent and inconspicuous. She’s spent over a century living in servitude, playing the role of the submissive, and tip-toeing like a quiet mouse amongst a pride of lions. She lives in a world where the nasty bad guys are too close for comfort and watching her every move. It’s a world where one has a difficult time discerning friend from foe. The fantasy element just happened. Perhaps, it was my subconscious way of giving Epiphany a light in so much darkness, but it is there and plays a major role. There are ancient magics and powers that can work for Epiphany, instead of against her. Her story is one filled with love and lust, fear and betrayal. Yet, at the heart of it all lurks a different brand of redemption. To avoid spoiling any surprises - that's all I am going to say.
I mentioned in the last blog that I would have more news soon and I do. The Second Book in the Kassandra Lyall Preternatural Investigator Series, Raven Mask, is scheduled for release by Bold Strokes Books, September 13, 2010.
So, not only do you guys get Witch Wolf in June, but you have only a little over two months to wait for the release of the second book.
That’s pretty nifty, isn’t it?
Blessings,
Winter
January 27, 2010
Writing - When it Doesn't Smell Pleasant.
I've got a mug of green tea and some very lazy cats sitting next to me. I've drawn the curtains back so that I can write by natural light. Well, some natural light. The sun is having an on-going battle with the clouds, so that every now and then, a cloud floats by and the sun peeks through, setting the entire room ablaze with its light.
When we moved into the house I stood in the room and had to decide where I wanted to put my desk. I opted for putting it where it faced a wall, instead of facing the window. I didn't face the window because I knew it would only distract me. I was afraid that when I sat down to work in the morning, I was either going to have the sun in my eyes (very painful) or end up staring out the window while drinking coffee. So, no window views for me. Just give me a wall and a blank page and I'm good to go.
I don't really work in “my office.” One of the reasons for this is because of the cats. I won't name names, but one of them had issues and decided to use the floor as her litter box. To me, cat urine and writing doesn't go so well together. Plus, the fish tank is in there and the fish are always trying to talk to me. They swim up to the glass, stare, and seem to psychically whisper, “Feed me. Feed me. Feed me.” And though, the filtration system on the fish tank sounds like a lovely little fountain – it makes me have to pee and is not conducive to slipping into whatever little world I'm playing in when trying to get work done on the books.
Yesterday, my girlfriend and I tried to rid the room of the smell. I vacuumed and then she went over what I vacuumed with the steam cleaner. I must say, it smells one-hundred times better than it did, but she and I can still smell it. It’s faint and masked by a nice clean smell, but it’s still there. We're going to have to try again or call it doomed.
If you recall my previous entry about cat vomit...let me just say that the feline mentioned in that post is the same one that made the room stinky. Not only has she accomplished making the room smell, but she’s also piddled on every pair of house-shoes I own. For a while, she grew a fondness for peeing on the rug in our bathroom.
So, we're always trying to stay one step ahead of her. We keep the bathroom door closed. I put my slippers up where her big booty can't get up and squat over them. Before you wonder if the issue is health related – it’s not. It’s a territorial thing with her. She’s the only female cat that I have ever seen back up against something and spray it as expertly as a male cat. It’s getting better. We haven't caught her in the act of ‘ready, aim, fire’ in a while.
Yet, the thing that still baffles me is this:
What the Hel did my fuzzy slippers do to her?
And for those of you that are wondering if the piddler is my baby kitty...it’s not. Nerys, my baby, may be a very naughty kitty and try to eat people’s children (and a couple of friends), but she is her namesake. She is a lady and does not go to the bathroom on my fuzzy pink slippers.
Yes, I just admitted to owning something pink. And now I'm going to change the subject.
Witch Wolf will be released on June 14th this year. The book is now available for pre-order. Here’s where you can order your copy: Witch Wolf by Winter Pennington.
Also, for those of you interested in the paranormal romance genre, Radclyffe (writing as L. L. Raand) is coming out with a new book in March titled, ‘The Midnight Hunt.’ It’s a good book and I definitely recommend it for those paranormal junkies out there. You'll find an excerpt of the book on this page of her website: L. L. Raand.
I'll have more news soon.
Blessings,
Winter
December 5, 2009
Interruptions.
I sat down with a mug of hot cocoa yesterday and worked on some of the final edits for Witch Wolf. I was sitting there, typing away, when I heard that horrible noise that felines will give when they're about to upchuck. A second later, something shot across the room and landed with a meaty slap.
The cat jumped down off of the bed as soon as I turned to look. I turned, only to discover what looked like a war zone of kitty vomit.
But, oh, how it got worse. I returned to the room armed with paper towels and carpet cleaner. The cat upchucked again, this time, by my bookcase. I had to stop editing as I tried to figure out the best way to clean my girlfriend’s pillow (which was soaked). In the end, I decided the most effective way of cleaning it was by checking the tag and washing it. Yet, once I removed the pillow from the bed, I realized that the cat had not only puked on that, but on the blanket as well. I pulled the blanket back and frowned, hard. I pulled the sheet back and frowned even harder. Kitty puke had soaked through the blanket, to the sheet, and to the fitted sheet below.
I looked at the cat in question, who was huddling in the corner of the room by the bookcase, trying to be unobtrusive. “Seriously?” I asked.
She sank down lower, as if in apology, but her ears flattened warily. I wasn't mad at her. How could I be for something that she couldn't help? One moment she'd been sleeping quietly beside me and the next... well, you know.
I had to strip the bed and remove all of the contaminated material. I threw another blanket down while the others were being washed. A safety blanket, in case one of the cats decided to they had to puke. Of course, once the safety blanket went down - no one had to puke. Go figure.
I still got quite a bit of work done on the edits. I didn't tackle the one big scene I wanted to get my hands on and work with, but still, work was accomplished. The work yesterday wasn't steady. There were too many interruptions for that. Nonetheless, I managed to work around those interruptions and that’s something.
Hopefully, the interruptions today will be at a minimum and I'll be able to tackle that one big scene.
Blessings,
Winter
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