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Well this has been quite a November so far

I’ve been trying to be more productive for the entirety of this month, but it’s been a rough haul. I suffer from chronic pain and it has been an incredibly achy month, which interferes with my creative work. The prior three days were worse than I have experienced in years. But today has been 80% better! Yay! I get to write a newsletter mostly pain-free!

I think it’s a little poetic that I received this easement on “newsletter day.” I can feel the little nudge from the Universe: start talking, buddy.

So I want to tell you about the tiny-yet-mighty adventure I went on at the end of October, because it’s a day that has been feeding me when the brain weasels start shredding my thoughts.

Our story starts on BlueSky

I mean, of course it does. Because a surprising number of amazing things in my life happen because of freaking social media.¹

I was in a bad mood that day. Frustrated at the lack of progress in my job hunt, unhappy with my writing and with the state of the world, and struggling with some old grief. I was doom-scrolling on BlueSky, thinking about elections, etc. when a writer I follow posted about trying to get a dog from one coast to the other. This was not someone who I knew personally, but I volunteered immediately. Because I’m fully a dog person (which, if you’ve been reading this newsletter, cannot be a surprise to you) but I’m rarely in a position to adopt or help with adoptions of rescues. It’s sheer luck that this came up while I was jobless and I needed some purpose. So I raised my hand.

If you’re a big SFF reader, or if you follow a lot of SFF writers on Patreon or read their newsletters, you might already know the bulk of this story, right?

If not, meet Velveteen.

Catherynne Valente has already posted about her perspective of the inception and the conclusion of Velveteen’s trip, and has done it vastly better than I ever could, so I’m not going to dive into that part.

What I’m going to talk about is what it did for me.

I’ll start in the middle

I woke at 3 am after very little sleep, knowing I was going to spend the entire day driving alone. I was fully adrenalized and had like 5 different kinds of caffeine with me. I was halfway along the Southern Tier Expressway, a really pretty “northmost part of the Appalachians” drive, soaring through the fog, when I started crying.

The last time I’d driven alone through fog like this, it was after having visited my aunt. Almost a full decade ago, on the Blue Ridge Parkway. It was the second-to-last time I saw her in person.

My aunt, as much of a dog person as me, died in mid-2024 and left behind a beautiful hound mix who I’ll call Randy, whom I’d never met in person. So when my mother told me that my aunt had died, I asked her about adopting Randy. I found out that my aunt’s best friend did as well. We both reached out to my family to get more details. I was ready to drive down south and get that dog, come hell or high water.

What I heard from my family was not “here’s the shelter’s info.” Instead, it was “the shelter won’t release him, since he’s a danger to others.” I asked for the shelter’s contact info to confirm; no luck. My family wouldn’t even give me the shelter’s name. I reached out to my aunt’s roommate, who had no idea. I called every shelter I could find within a 50 mile radius of her address. No luck.

I lost my aunt’s dog. I LOST my aunt’s dog. I wasn’t able to give her pup a happy ending. I was so furious with my family for letting that happen. I was furious with myself for letting it happen.

And so on a foggy early morning in the last week of October, I was sobbing because there I was, doing a 770-mile drive in one day so SOMEONE’s dog could have the happy ending that was denied to Randy.

This was a healing drive, for me. Something to stitch up a wound I had ignored for too long.

When I met Vel, it was beyond worth it. She was such a well-behaved baby, and she responded to instructions immediately. She was comfortable and calm the entire drive, singing along to INXS with me before she slept for a few hours. I was able to report back to the #PuppyExpress that Vel knew sit, paw, down, and more commands.

I also reported that she was both an alto AND a soprano.

I chose not to have my expenses covered. The gift of being able to help, when I needed to be able to help someone, was enough. And now I get to read Cat’s reports of how Vel is settling in, and how Vel’s presence has positively changed her and her child’s life. These reports help my wound keep knitting itself together. And I imagine that if I’m wrong in my beliefs and there’s an afterlife somewhere, my aunt would probably have lifted a glass in celebration of this dog’s success.

Writing news

There’s not much to report right now. No new publications, but I also haven’t been submitting much. Instead, I’ve been working steadily on a floofy urban fantasy romance² novella, both for the practice of writing longer pieces and to see what indie publishing might be like. I needed to work on something I didn’t care too much about for my first novella, since I was getting waaay too much in my head about work that was closer to my heart. I’ve been averaging about 500 words, 5 days a week, which has been heartening!

I’ve also been reading quite a bit. Please tell me you’ve checked out “(Skin)” by Chelsea Sutton (cw for body horror) and “In the Zone” by Lisa M. Bradley? Both of these are surprisingly joyous while addressing some dark topics.

This month you get EXTRA pupness

Two puppies this month! Here’s a yawning Kizu.

With love and weirdness,

~Risa