NY's Hotel Pierre, talking animals--and retirement

Today in the Cleo Coyle novel I'm reading I came across a description of the Hotel Pierre. I never knew it was so lavish and ritzy. My dad didn't go to NYC often, but when he did, he stayed at the Pierre. Dad was a Scotsman through and through, so I always thought it was a lesser hotel, even though he traveled on an expense account. Apparently not so. I wish he were here so I could ask him about it.
I've discovered a new dislike: novels with talking animals. I've ordered two recently and decided I couldn't read them. One wonderful thing about Kindle is that you can order the first chapter of a novel free; if you don't like it, just erase it. Want to buy it, which is of course what they hope. Go to one-click Kindle shopping. I ordered a sample of one but dumbly ordered and paid for the full text of the other because I'd read good reviews Reviews or not, I couldn't get into it. Never did read Watership Down. I've decided I must use that function of Kindle all the time. I'm notorious (to myself) for buying books I've already read. At Barnes & Noble, they were good about returning them, but there's no such option on Kindle. I thought I'd read all of Cleo Coyle's coffee house mysteries but Latte Trouble didn't sound familiar. I ordered the first chapter and found I hadn't read it, so I've had my nose in it much of the weekend.
Jacob slept till 8:30 this morning and then I had to wake him up singing "Where's Jacob, Where's Jacob?" He woke up with a big grin. I was afraid Jordan would be unhappy if he slept all morning. Tonight Jacob and his parents and I went to Uncle Julio's--Colin worked there forever (I was afraid he was going to be a bartender all his life) and Jordan worked there three years, so it's sort of a sentimental Mexican placer for us. Two glasses of wine and I had to come home and take a nap!
I guess I can make my big announcement now--well, it's big to me--I'm submitting my letter of retirement tomorrow, effective July 15. The powers-that-be have known this for a long time but asked me to hold off. It's been a hard decision to keep quiet because it effects so much of my thinking and planning. No, I don't know who will succeed me--there will be an interim director while they do a national search, but they haven't settled on an interim and the turmoil surrounding that has me in a constant state.
I sat the other night and made a list of my goals for retirement: the first is to conquer my anxiety by slowly widening the circle of things I will do alone. I've had to do that before, and I know it can be done, but it's tough. I don't think I'll have the peace of mind to do it until I'm out of the office. I can start practicing now, because I know I've really drawn that circle more tightly around me. My other goals have to do with seeing more of my other grandchildren--have to find a way to get to Houston and get over the anxiety enough to ride the train to Austin and Dallas. And to do more serious writing--as readers of this blog know, I keep putting off my current work in progress, blaming it partly on not having heard from the publisher who's had the first mystery for almost six months. But I can query them and their answer may give me a hint about which direction to go. I hope to continue my occasional column for the Dallas Morning News and turn my blog into more of a review blog. And maybe do some other free lancing.
After retirement, I will continue to do acquisitions for the press and participate in some event planning, so I won't lose touch comletely. It's a big wrench--I went to work there in the summer of 1982 and became director in 1987. The press is pretty much my baby (aside from my own babies and their children), and many people have said kind things about what I've built it into. Yes, I'm nervous abut leaving it in other hands. But my good friends Jeannie and Jean have convinced me that I have to look after myself first, not the press. And they're right. I've been anxious for months, and when they both said they were worried about me and that every time I talked about the office I tensed up, I decided it was time to listen. My boss keeps asking if I've changed my mind, which is a nice compliment. But been there, done that, and this time I'm not turning back.

Cats and dogs

This will come as no surprise to anyone, let alone me, but cats are finicky. I have a wonderful new petsitter, a big gentle man nicknamed Moksha. He comes twice a day and emails me after each visit. When he's here, he brings Scooby into the house (something I would never do until evening for fear I'd never get him out again), and the three of them--Moksha, Scooby, and Wywy sit on the couch while he loves on them and talks to them. My neighbor even commented that she heard him talking to Wywy through the door, and he was so kind and gentle. I love on my animals, but in passing--Moksha does it deliberately. Scooby loves the attention, and I swear his face fell when he saw it was me Sunday night. But other than being a little extra demanding and in a hurry to go to his bed, you'd never know he missed me. Wywy, on the other hand, decided to punish me. He sits endlessly at my elbow on my desk--annoying if I'm trying to work on papers, and he knows it well. And he decided not to eat wet food. I put it out, he ignored it, it got stale, and I threw it away. Today, after two days, he has deigned to begin to eat again. But his look is still reproachful--and he still ignores me when I'm right in his face. Today I reached over to pet him and he bit at me--not enough to break the skin but enough for me to bat him away.
The book world is in turmoil over the Google Print Settlement--Google scanned a lot of books in public libraries, without permission; a class action suit was filed, and google lost. But administering the settlement is a nightmare, and we at TCU have put off dealing with it too long. Today we finally moved ahead, which means an intense couple of days getting a mailing out, but I am glad we're doing something. The press also has a big event this Sunday--but not as big as I'd like. Last year we had 225 people for Books & Music in the Garden; this year, we have only 64 reservations. I'm sure they'll pick up toward the end of the week, but not enough. Something to rethink.
I read a blog today about whether or not it is better for writers to slog away and write crap when they're not feeling inspired or to just wait; general opinion, better to write. Most books are rewritten, not written. So I'm in the process of getting the end of my novel down on paper, no matter how worthless the prose seems to me. I'll go back and carve it into scenes.
And my cookbook is almost here--at the bindery. They might try to drop ship some to me for Books & Music in the Garden, and I will for sure have them for my April 29 talk to the TCU staff book luncheon. I need to start working on mailing lists, etc. but rest assured, I'll post a huge notice on the blog when the book is available. In some ways, I have more of myself invested in that book than any other I've done. I guess the one that comes closest is my short story collection, because no one publishes short stories any more and I was so determined to see mine in print. New York publishers? Who needs them?