The Great Chipmunk Rescue

Welcome to the not-quite summer solstice edition of Enchanted Side Quests. Summer is arriving a little late hereabouts and we’ve only been spotting the fireflies for the past two-three nights, while off the coast, they’ve been out for weeks. I was relieved to see them, worried some unseen pollutant had disappeared them like so many insect populations you hear about. They’re an important source of magic for children and writers.

I am steadily plotting A Binding of Spellwork and Story, for which I received a grant from artsnb to write, and I know what you’re thinking, “Still?” and yeah, I am not fast at this. Plotting for me includes multiple notebooks filled and every scene broken down to the very best version of itself. I end up with a very messy not-draft of some 50 000 words, and then I get to writing in earnest.

I started taking photos of my plot board so I can SEE some progress beyond notebooks filling up. The one below is from a few weeks back and wow, it’s very heartening to know how much fuller it is already. And maybe I can sequence them all in a video for social media purposes? Like a time lapse of a slow motion plotter.

There is no rhyme or reason to the colours involved, I just like chaotic colour. What DOES matter is the order. Here you can see I have a lot of beginning, a bit of a middle, and some ending stuff.

Life is still chaotic and some family members are still in crisis, but I’ve forced myself to spend a few hours every morning working on my writing despite it all, and it’s helped a lot. My mental health is better and my anxiety lower, which makes me an all-around better parent and better equipped to handle the day’s crises as they come.

I felt a nice inner glow when I saw someone post about my book Care and Feeding of Your Little Banned Bookshop on social media with a caption that read “I think of this book whenever I see a little free library.”

Now I’m grinning again, thinking of all the little library magics in the book and outside of the book, like when a friend of mine took a copy of Bornstein’s Hello Cruel World that I sent them to put in a Little Free Library in Florida during a visit. That book plays a pivotal role in Care and Feeding, so this felt like making magic. I’ve also had friends buy copies of the book specifically to put inside Little Free Libraries, knowing how magical it would be to read this book if that’s where you found it.

Writers, I tell ya. We can’t get enough of that magic.

Which brings us to this month’s side quest: my chipmunk rescue adventure.

So. We all know (one hopes) that if you have a big tub to collect rainwater in, that you put a stick in it in case any critters or bees fall in, they can climb out. For some reason, I put in one of the kids’ snow shovels this year, thinking it would suffice. It didn’t, I think the plastic was too slippery for wet paws. This is important.

I was on the phone with my friend from BC (because I am old and still use the phone for such things) and outside because we tend to get loud and silly when I wandered to our rainwater tub. And there, floating, was a drowned chipmunk.

My heart got heavy with dread. (Please put a stick in your tubs if you haven’t already).

I put the phone down, cursing the shovel for not doing it’s job, and then I took the shovel to remove the small, furry corpse before the kids could see it, which is when the little fella blinked.

Shovel be damned, I scooped the little critter up in my hands and put him on the grass, where he lay there, shivering or maybe shaking with shock. I told my friend I’d call her back and picked him back up to hold against my chest in case he was cold and went around to the front door to ask my partner for help finding something to put the poor thing in.

The chipmunk was moving significantly more already, which was a really good sign.

Mike brought out a box with a t-shirt to hold him and the chipmunk immediately flopped over, probably from exhaustion.

Then came the internet searching of nesting material and food. The kids picked him some wild strawberries to eat while Mike found some clean sawdust and old grass. Little chippy was started to move more still, made himself a cozy nest to hide in, and rested.

Its hard to get closure with stuff like this, because it does have deep affect on the mind to experience this with a wild critter. Last summer I found a baby snowshoe hare in rough shape that we took to the wildlife vet and I still wonder what happened to her. This time, success is waking up to an empty box and a hope that our chipmunk returned to his forest home.

But when nature give you the opportunity to be kind, you also get the chance to rescue yourself a little bit, too.

It has been a WILD month. The hummingbirds have returned, the garden is planted and happily growing, and the critters are out and about.

You can imagine my shock when I was at my desk, working through my morning plotting hours, when I saw something dark through the window, out of the corner of my eye. Was that a bear?

I went around to the front of the house, going out into our mud room which has the only place with windows facing the direction the bear went in. Sure enough, there was the bear, sauntering over to our compost barrel. And then INTO our compost barrel.

Where he pulled out the remains of a half-rotten squash rind covered in coffee grounds.

He then lost interest in the rotten squash rind and compost entirely, choosing to saunter over the vehicles, give them a sniff, then wandered up the driveway and into the woods.

While cautious, I’ll admit it was exciting to be able to watch a young, wild black bear explore from a safe location. It was also a good opportunity to teach the kids some safety stuff and while I was worried we’d have to stop composting, the bear hasn’t come back a few weeks in. We do live in nature’s home, and big wild animals come with the small ones.

That said, I do prefer the smaller ones when it comes to my kids, who have asked to keep thousands of snakes and toads as pets so far this summer.

And with this flurry of pet requests, there is a small feeling of finally. THIS is why we wanted to raise them here, amid the fireflies and the toads and the sometimes bears. My youngest is terrified of snakes, UNLESS the snake is being held by my eldest, who has suddenly started channeling Steve Irwin for reasons unbeknownst, but welcome.

That’s it for this month’s newsletter, Enchanted friends. What adventures have you been having? Have you read any books I should add to my TBR?

August is with the banned

Dear Side Questers,

First off, the big news:

I’m thrilled to announce that artsnb has awarded me a grant to write a novel with the working title A Binding of Story and Spellwork! I’ll be drafting this book over the next year and I’m so thankful to everyone who wrote me a letter of recommendation, helped me with my grant application, and especially to artsnb for believing in this story!

(if you’ve noticed the date, please note that there is a significant delay between when I receive this news and I’m allowed to share it publicly.)

Some of you may have also noticed that I didn’t send out a newsletter last month. The short story is that I was in zero shape to write a newsletter.

The LONG story is that I caught a virus in late June/early July and it spread to my ears, cutting off my hearing entirely on one side, and partially on the other. At first I made some jokes, haha, it’s summer and the kids are home but somehow I’ve still got quiet time.

Then the first round of antibiotics didn’t do anything and it wasn’t funny anymore. Nothing sounds right, which is disorienting. Birdsong sounds like a distant banshee wail. The sussurrus of the wind in the leaves sounds like bacon sizzling. A big truck with a jake brake going down the mountain sounds like nothing I can place but let me tell you it opens a void of horror at my feet until someone explains what I just heard. I can’t tell what direction sounds are coming from. Everything is WEIRD.

I never realized how much I depend on sounds to navigate my world, how changes of pressure can alter sounds. Details I’ll definitely be considering the next time I write a portal fantasy.

And yeah, mental health. I fell in a pit.

Then I got a second, longer round of antibiotics. That also did nothing to help, brutalized my guts, and at this point, people are fed up. At first, people are frustrated that you can’t hear them. Then they give up, or get mad. You can read it in their face. “You’re not even trying. You just don’t want to listen to me. You aren’t worth the trouble it takes to talk to you.” At one point my seven-year-old burst into tears because she “has no one to talk to anymore.”

I’ve come to realize that people don’t buy hearing aids for themselves, they buy them for other people.

The pit got deeper.

Last week I went back to the doctor and finally got some answers. Basically, I have a fluid buildup in my middle ear caused by that bad cough we had in late June, but it isn’t an infection, it isn’t contagious, it’s just… there. And it should clear up on it’s own within twelve weeks. If it doesn’t, there’s an outpatient surgery, the same one little kids get when you hear they’re getting tubes in their ear. Three months of deafness sounds like a long time, but not if you’ve been in a super deep pit of depression worrying that this might be permanent.

I can do three months. Three months is a ladder down the side of the pit that I can use to climb out. Heck, it’s already been one month. Two to go!

If you spend a lot of time in the woods, you’ve probably noticed that birds go quiet when there’s a predator around. Quiet woods, like when you’re temporarily deaf, aren’t an easy place to relax, so my forays have been short. But long enough to see this cutie:

I have been spending all of this quiet working on a novella that is very much what I needed. Someone in my workshop group calls it ‘message fic’ which once would have horrified me, but yeah, it is and I should probably just lean into it. It’s a fairy tale for people who are horrified with all the book banning that’s been happening to the South.

Originally, this was a YA short story I wrote for Cast of Wonders’ annual Banned Books Week. It ended up being held for consideration, but then returned with the kind of feedback that made me trunk the story completely. A recent newsletter from Charlie Jane Anders made me pull it back out and I decided to see how it would work with a mature protagonist and more space to tell the story. This rewrite is really turning into something that I’m proud of. I’ve kept the original title, Care and Feeding of Your Little Banned Bookshop and I’m happy to say that this time around, the feedback has been positive thus far (finger crossed!).

Not incidentally, Charlie Jane Anders ALSO wrote the book Never Say You Can’t Survive: How to Get Through Hard Times by Making Up Stories which I’ve been rereading this month, for obvious reasons. I highly recommend the book and her newsletter!

That’s it for this month Side Questers. I hope you’re having a wonderful summer with lots of wild adventures. Feel free to hit reply and tell me about them so I can live vicariously through you!

Until next month,