A Labour-Free Labour Day? Yes, Please!

Hello and Happy Labour Day to all my lovely North American readers!

Now, isn’t it just a little bit ironic that a holiday with the word labour baked right into the name is universally observed by doing absolutely none of it? Zero. Zilch. Unless, of course, you count the rigorous work of flipping burgers, casting fishing lines, and chasing wasps away from the potato salad. Then yes—we are a nation of highly skilled, recreational labourers. Olympic-level loungers, really.

This year, I’m wholeheartedly leaning into the contradiction. After an exceptionally busy summer filled with writing deadlines, creative misadventures, and one unfortunate incident involving a Papillon, a pie, and a squirrel (don’t ask—Pixie is still refusing to discuss it), I’m embracing the art of not doing much at all.

My Labour Day weekend plans include:

Reclining in my favourite chair like a dramatic Victorian heroine recovering from a fainting spell.
Watching the endless activity in the harbour just outside my window. Boats bobbing, seagulls squawking, people paddling while trying not to tip over—it's better than reality TV.
Reading a stack of mysteries and pretending it counts as research. (It totally does.)
And yes, noodling away at my latest cozy mystery set in Rosewood Hollow—where the biggest drama is usually between the living and the dearly departed, and my magical Papillon sidekick Pixie always knows more than she’s letting on.

This is the kind of “labour” I can get behind. Plotting crimes. Solving puzzles. Drinking tea while pretending I’m brainstorming, when really, I’m just watching clouds go by.

So wherever you are, I hope your long weekend is everything you need it to be—relaxing, laughter-filled, safe, and stocked with snacks. If you do find yourself with a quiet hour and a comfy spot to curl up, consider hopping into one of the Magical Papillon Mysteries. Pixie and I would love to welcome you to Rosewood Hollow, where the mysteries are magical, the ghosts are chatty, and the tea is always hot.

Enjoy your Labour-Free Labour Day!
(And remember: calories consumed on a long weekend do not count. That’s science.)

With warmth, whimsy, and only a small bit of productivity,
Sabine

Comments

Writers, Don’t Be a Slave to Word Count: Let the Story Speak for Itself

As writers, we’ve all asked ourselves that nagging question: “Is my book long enough? Too short? How long should it be?” It’s easy to get caught up in the numbers, obsessing over whether our work fits neatly into arbitrary word count guidelines. But here’s the truth: Word count should never dictate the quality of your story. The heart of storytelling lies in the narrative itself, not in how many pages it spans. The Pressure of Word Count From NaNoWriMo goals to publishing industry standards, writers face constant reminders about “acceptable” word counts. A novel must be 80,000-100,000 words. A novella shouldn’t exceed 40,000. Short stories have their own limits. These guidelines are helpful, but they can also be stifling. We begin to pad scenes unnecessarily or trim meaningful moments just to conform to these benchmarks. I’ve been there. I’ve wrestled with my manuscript, forcing it to stretch or condense to meet expectations. And you know what happened? The authenticity of the...

The Glamorous Life of a Writer (Or, Mostly Just Staring at a Screen)

There’s a persistent rumor floating around that writers live thrilling, adventure-filled lives. Perhaps it’s all the dramatic author portraits on book jackets—moody, windswept, staring off into the distance as if contemplating the fate of the world. Perhaps it’s the movies, where writers are always dashing off to Paris to write the next great novel in a charming café (suspiciously never interrupted by spotty Wi-Fi or overpriced croissants). I hate to break it to you, but real writing? Not quite so cinematic. In reality, my writing days mostly involve staring intensely at my screen, willing the words to appear through sheer force of will. Occasionally, I engage in deep philosophical debates with myself—such as whether my protagonist should turn left or right down a hallway (the fate of the fictional world depends on it). And let’s not forget the highly intellectual process of naming characters, which can take hours because somehow every single name I think of is either the name of ...

Picking a Favorite Character? Impossible!

The question comes up all the time. It’s inevitable. Like taxes. Or discovering that you’ve been walking around with spinach in your teeth all day. "Who’s your favorite character?" And I should have a definitive answer, right? Like, boom—here’s my favorite! Neatly tied up, no hesitation, no emotional turmoil, no staring off into the middle distance questioning my life choices. But no. That is not how this works. That is not how any of this works. My knee-jerk reaction is always Pixie . Pixie, my telepathic, sass-infused, magical Papillon from the Magical Papillon Mysteries . How could I not pick her? She’s got it all—wit, charm, fluffy ears, and, most importantly, magic. I mean, who wouldn’t want a touch of magic? I can barely find my car keys half the time. Pixie would just twitch an ear, and boom—problem solved. And she’s funny. Not just “accidentally amusing” funny. No, she’s deliberately funny. She says the things we all wish we could say, with perfect comed...

Thinkingdog Publishing

Search This Blog