hallowe’en!

It is a cold Hallowe’en in Salem today. We only ventured out for a few hours to brave the downtown craziness, but the crowds weren’t as heavy as usual. It’ll likely get busier later, though. I hope people plan on wearing costumes that involve sweaters.

We made friends with a black cat. As one does on Hallowe’en in Salem.

Home now, with caramel apples and caramel vodka. It’s like a theme.

The chill of impending winter has clearly arrived, rustling through the leaves on the ground outside.

But the trees are still on fire, so autumn hasn’t left just yet.

And a witch just walked past my window.

Happy Hallowe’en & a Blessed Samhain, too!

flax-golden tales: all-seeing

all-seeing

The skull says I see you when pedestrians or trick-or-treaters or dog-walkers pass by. Eyes that have no place being in a skull, hovering in empty sockets, move disconcertingly from side-to-side.

The observation is followed by a metallic cackle of recorded laughter.

People jump or shriek or return the cackle with laughs of their own.

Sometimes they try to get the skull to speak again, but it won’t. Not until someone else falls into its gaze.

I see you.

It does see, even as it cackles. It can’t close those eyes, after all.

And it remembers.

About flax-golden tales. Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.

snapshots from revisionland

Snapshots from Revisionland: the pre-Hallowe’en edition

Coffee:

New scenes, scribbled longhand in unlined notebooks:

Bucket involved in some sort of Battle Royale with an empty Panera bag:

(I think Bucket is winning.)

And of course, the obligatory bowl of candy:

typewriter

I had a busy, marvelous weekend. Hallowe’en has exploded downtown already, with crowds & costumes & small dogs dressed like turtles. I had a caramel apple! And I made more apple goat cheese tartlets. And apple blackberry crisp. It was an apple-y sort of weekend.

We had company from out of town that came to see the craziness, along with a wonderful puppy who was not dressed as a turtle. We had a fabulous time.

And FYI, to anyone who might visit me in the future and be so kind as to bring me giftage: you have been preemptively outdone. Forever. Sorry.

Because I now have a vintage typewriter.

I have been occasionally petting it in between taking sexy typewriter photos. I have wanted a vintage typewriter for ages and now I have one of my very own because awesome people are awesome. I will likely pet it more than type on it, but that’s okay. It can sit on a table and look pretty & writerly.

It appears to be in decent working order, though a few of the keys are askew and it needs a new ribbon. Which I can order, because the internet is magical.

Also this weekend, my book contract arrived. I feel all official.

And now it is Monday, as it often is after weekends, and I am back to coffee & Revisionland.

And occasional typewriter petting.

flax-golden tales: cinderella pumpkin

cinderella pumpkin

As soon as I read the sign and saw what the pumpkins were called I knew I had to have one.

My mom said no. She said they don’t make good jack-o’-lanterns.

“But they’re Cinderella pumpkins!” I explained. “They’re not for carving, they’re for turning into coaches to ride to balls at castles.”

Sometimes I worry that my mom is not so smart.

I had to beg, but she let me take the best one home.

I left it on the lawn next to the dressed-up-like-a-ghost lamp post so I can see it from my window.

After mom went to bed I put my princess dress and fancy shoes on, and now it’s almost midnight.

My Cinderella pumpkin is getting bigger.

About flax-golden tales. Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.

editing

I am back in Revisionland. I kind of missed it.

It also feels really nice to be actively working on the book again, since the last month has been a whirlwind of bubbly alcohol and foreign rights news and I’ve been trying my best to distract myself with other things. I’ve been knitting. Slowly. I worked a bit on the in-progress not-book-yet thing. I baked apple goat cheese tartlets.

But mostly I’ve been sitting here thinking, um… can I have it back, please? I know you all seem to think it’s really good but I can make it better and also there’s a typo on page 213.

And now I have it back, hurrah! I have my editorial letter from my brilliant editor and my marked-up manuscript.


I thought maybe all the red ink would be intimidating or nerve-wracking, but mostly it’s just exciting. Every note is insightful, there are so many opportunities for improvement.

And even though there are a lot of notes and several significant things to work on, it all feels reasonable and manageable. It’ll be a good amount of work but really, I want it to be as good as it can possibly be. And I’ve played this revision game before, just not on this detailed a level.

I’m getting myself organized. I have notes and a few things sketched out for potential additional scenes. I am far too excited about my Post-It flags. I may have color-coded by editorial points and themes. Possibly.

It’s glorious, glorious autumn outside, bright and crisp, and there is a small yippy dog walking by my window. I have a novel to improve and there’s a bottle of Baileys Irish Cream with caramel in my refrigerator.

The only way I could be better is if I still had apple goat cheese tartlets. I might have to bake some more.