Good afternoon, and happy Saturday! It’s a balmy 100F here in Satan’s Anus, which is a helluva lot better than the 108 we endured yesterday. In this week’s missive, I bring you some pretty pictures of Lockett Meadow in the San Francisco Peaks near Flagstaff, my writing progress (such as it is), a few interesting dribs and drabs I found on the internet when I should have been writing, and a fresh batch of memes I also found on the internet when I should have been writing. But first: Welcome to the Weekend Coffee Share, hosted by Natalie the Explorer! Grab a treat, pull up a seat, and let’s get this party started. Writing news I now have a completed draft of the short story I plan to submit for the Left Coast Crime Trouble in Tucson anthology! I’m currently revising to get the word count under the limit of 5000 words and filling in all the details I skipped over while drafting. When I draft, if I get stuck on a detail, I flag it and keep going, because I don’t want to lose momentum by trying to decide what to name a character or going down the internet rabbit hole known as, “research.” Which is why I spent about 45 minutes this morning poring over the org chart for the Tucson Police Department and playing with Scrivener’s Name Generator. I’m happy to report that I now know what division my main character works in, and his boss has a name. Small victories. And speaking of small victories, the poem I’m planning to submit for the Arizona Authors Association annual literary contest now has a title–“Our Future Held in Store.” I’m not thrilled with it, so it might change between now and the submission deadline (Friday), but at least it isn’t hanging around with my Tucson police detective’s boss in The Purgatory of the Nameless. Lockett Meadow in the San Francisco Peaks Last week I shared a little of my old neighborhood in Flagstaff, which was threatened by the Pipeline Fire. I’m happy to report that the fire is now 70% contained, and my old neighborhood is still standing. I’m also happy to report that the Inner Basin and Lockett Meadow, beautiful areas in the San Francisco Peaks, were largely spared. I never managed to hike into the Inner Basin, but Long-Suffering Husband and I visited Lockett Meadow in fall 2020, right before we moved to Tucson. We missed peak leaf color by about a week, but the aspens were still lovely. I’m so grateful this area didn’t burn. Interesting bits that crossed my path this week I read a couple of blog posts this week that seem worth sharing: How the Art You Consume Determines the Quality of Your Work – Cristian Mihai. Mihai talks about how to develop “killer taste,” by spending time and noticing details in the art we consume. “Redefining Success: Beyond Your Job Title” – Andrew at Pointless Overthinking. The pandemic is causing a lot of folks to rethink the role of work in their lives, so this post is timely. “Crime Fiction Protagonists’ Duty Gear & EDC [Every Day Carry],” an excellent, free, 24-minute video by Adam Richardson of the Writer’s Detective Bureau podcast (mentioned in last week’s post). In this video, Det. Richardson explains in show-and-tell format all the stuff police officers carry on their duty belts. If you write crime fiction–or are curious about the everyday details of a LEO’s life–this is great stuff. And finally…. The Memery No theme this week, but there’s some funny stuff in this batch. This one’s especially for my Pacific Northwest friends: When I lived up there, I firmly believed that the first sunny day of every calendar year should have been an automatic holiday. No one knows what they’re getting into when they have children. I don’t care how many parenting books you read or how much you babysat, you. don’t. know. I once strolled through the living room, casually said to my son, “Please don’t eat the remote,” and kept on walking. I got a few steps further, stopped, muttered some euphemism for, “WTF,” and realized I’d reached a new level of parenting. Then when they get older: My son is 24 and still develops a case of ebola every time I ask him to empty the dishwasher. I’m amazed he isn’t dead yet. Long-Suffering Husband isn’t dead yet either, because he knows better than to do this: I’m a gentle soul… right up till you mess with my chocolate. And speaking of marriage: Speaking of mariticide (yes, it’s a word; Wikipedia says so): As long as we’re building our vocabularies: Some variation of this conversation takes place at our house at least a few times a year: Long-Suffering Husband: [gags] Oh, fuuuuuccccck. [retches, then holds out container containing several refrigerator-based life forms]. SMELL THIS! Me: I am 55 years old, and I would totally take a picture of that. And then post it on my blog. On that note… What’s happening in your life? Have a great week!