How It Goes

The struggle is real. I managed to work a few hours this week on The Long Summer Run. It just hit me that I wanted ... no needed to write. I have so many ideas that run through my head and have not even felt the urge. I've been sick for months with some sort of respiratory issue and my RA has really not been behaving well. 

I suspect the inflammation has been so high because of the compound issues. I've been on antibiotics and steroids within a single month. It took that long for the sinus infection to clear up, at least the worst of it. I am still having issues with drainage that cause coughing fits. I get embarrassed to go out. Today, I'm revisiting my RA doctor to see if we can get this mess to back off.

However, I had a sudden urge to write. So I did. I worked for several hours. The plan was to come back the next day. Unfortunately, plumbing issues arose and Sarah started her job and school. Sarah is my 17yr old granddaughter who has returned home to live with me after several years away. If you read my other blogs, or are on my Facebook page, you'll have run into references of her growing up. 

Anyway, with all this going on, I didn't get back to the novel. 

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And as of today, 14 days have passed. Yep. That's how it goes. I didn't get back to the novel. My doctor did nothing but tell me she was retiring. And I'm still struggling with pain, fatigue, and the congestion problems. 

However, last night that urge reappeared, and I worked for a bit on a segment of The Dream Stealer. I don't know why I bother with anything. Something else always interferes. And I know that we're supposed to prioritize our writing. Unfortunately, when you have doctor's appointments, children to get where they need to go, family who also rely on your help, church, running your legs off to find supplies because these days it seems there's not enough of the necessities at any one store. Anyway, by the end of the day, I'm wiped out. Fibromyalgia is a hag.

I enjoyed writing and today I woke with a better mindset and took the time available and do it. And I promptly began working on something for one of my blogs and got distracted searching for information I needed. 

ㄟ( ▔, ▔ )ㄏ

That folks, is the story of my life. When I realized I was caught in a spiral, I shut down the browser for everything but this post. I've got too many irons in the writing inferno. Three blogs, all different. I've considered consolidating a couple, but there are problems with that idea. So I plod along.

For now, I'm going to end here because, let's face it, it is two weeks overdue! I wish you a beautiful day, a wonderful weekend, and many blessings. 

Write any way, anywhere, anytime you are able. 

Terror in my Mind

Courtesy Pixabay.com

It is raining but that's better than snow. It is still cold. I'm slightly better but I'm fighting fatigue like it was some giant troll from The Hobbit. I'm coughing less but no less choking. Either the crud in my chest is gone or I'm starting over.

I did attempt a little bit of writing one day over the weekend but I couldn't tell you which one. A few times I sat down to write but was so tired I couldn't sit up. This morning, after going to bed at 8:30 last night and getting up at 6 a.m., I still had to lie down at 8 a.m. and sleep for 2 hrs. After which, I was still tired and couldn't even put away that last load of laundry.

It is depressing. I recognize the symptoms. I've been sick a month and after the year I had last year, it is so discouraging to not be able to do anything worthwhile. I have a story that is 5000 words short of a completed first draft. Oh, a piece of cake, you think? Only if your brain works and you can stay awake. Before all this, I could have done that in 2 hours. Really.

I would really be curious to hear from other writers with auto-immune disorders that are impacting their life in this way. I retired in 2013 and thought that less stress would help. It hasn't. In fact, I've gotten worse. Most days I feel totally out of control of my own life. When I read over what I've written, I can see that it is really good, very good. And it makes me a sick to think I'll never get it finished.

Oh wow. This wasn't meant to be a pity party. I'm sorry. I was going to write about something else entirely. It is 8:40 p.m. here and I'm about to head off to bed. Despite about 12 hrs sleep in the last 24, I'm tired. I keep thinking this will pass soon. Time is relative.

In a few weeks, I'll see my doctors again and discuss this with them. I do think one problem is that I've lost a lot of physical strength since I blew the disk in my back. I have no stamina and I need to get out and do some physical activity to rebuild that. But it is harder the older you get. Once, I'd have just started an aerobics routine and built up in a few weeks to an hour workout. The thought exhausts me now.

I hope your writing is progressing and if you're struggling with physical problems that interfere with your writing, just keep going. Don't give up or lose heart.  You'll feel worse if you stop. I've been entertaining that thought for weeks now. I'll just give up. No more writing. No more stories. No listening to the voice whisper adventures in the night. Just stop.

That is the most terrifying thought I've ever experienced.

Batter Up!

For this NaNo, I've been working on a previous NaNo novel. I haven't done much because of the back surgery and the nerve problem in my hand and arm have interfered with my ability to type. I've tried speech recognition software and managed to get some writing done. That's better than nothing. This last week, I worked on typing a bit. With over 60K words already written and a projected 30K to go, I've only produced the proverbial drop in the bucket. But I'm hopeful. At least, today I'm hopeful.

I really love this story, which is a far cry from most of my other NaNo novels. I only have one other that I truly love and it too is very near completion. My problem is that life is constantly throwing me curve balls in the form of illness or catastrophes such as a ruptured disk compressing my spine. To the point that I've despaired of finishing either novel. But I am working on both of them. 

Yes, both. I've decided that the way to deal with a curve ball is to find a new batting style. I've decided to ask what novel I want to work on for the day and to work on that one. If I grow tired or hit a roadblock, I will work on the other one. This has actually helped because it removes some my excuses for not writing at all and I manage to make some progress.

It never fails when I'm working on something that another story comes to mind that I could be working on. I try sticking to one but sometimes, I just hit a spot I feel I can't go further. Usually, that can shut me down for a while. Now, I just open the other story and start working on that. This has been surprisingly helpful. It means I'm writing. It also means boredom isn't a factor in my writing. I also found that it tends to push me to try to stick with the story I have open. Because after all, I want to finish ONE of them!

Maybe it isn't the best solution but at the end of the week, I'll have worked on two stories instead of one. Right now I'm focusing on All That's Holy because I really need to get some things structured. The story is complex and has a parallel structure. So, a lot going on and it feels all over the place. It probably isn't as bad as it feels but there is a lot of work to do on it before the 1st draft is done.

I hope your writing week has been productive, despite the holiday stupor that gets to all of us.

The Voices In My Head

Thanks Pixabay.com

I spent a whole day this past week wondering why I bother. Why do I even think about writing? What's the use? What's the point? Who am I kidding, I stink. I'm terrible. I'm sick all the time. I don't write enough. I can't think. I have so much to do and can't get my act together.

I give up! I just quit. I'm not going to bother even trying. I can't do it anyway and my mind seems to have taken a permanent vacation. So, I should, too.

Yeah, I said that.

And was immediately miserable.

I don't write because someone makes me. Maybe if they did, I'd be more productive. I do it because I can't help it. Even when I feel awful, I try and write something. But it seems so little that I end up angry and frustrated with myself.

Every year I start a schedule but then something happens about 4 months in that totally derails me. Usually, my RA or Fibromyalgia flares and I'm knocked down. I keep writing but the momentum is gone and sometimes, even the energy. I become too ill to get anything done.

Today was one of those days. I went back to bed after I got Sarah to school and slept hard for two more hours. The rest of the day I lay in my recliner, still exhausted. I can't tell you what I did because I don't remember. I dozed off and on all afternoon. I think I read some. I think I went somewhere.. oh yeah, to lunch with Mike. Wow, totally forgot that. My back hurt, my hand hurt, and I was so tired when I got home, it was an effort to stay awake. So, I slept. Those types of days are frequent.

I beat myself up. I flay myself until I'm bleeding from every pore. Metaphorically, of course. I fall into a depression and despair of every producing another completed piece. I quit. At least once a year.

Then, I find something in a file that I wrote. And I'm shocked because I don't remember writing it and I wonder how I wrote such beautiful prose. Then, the voices in my head start talking about the story, pouring details so fast I can't keep up. I'm driven back to the keyboard to get it all down and repeat the process.

Maybe I'll finish something. Maybe I won't. That bothers me most. But I can't stop. I can't quit. I have no choice. The voices in my head won't let me quit. They may become overwhelmed by pain and despair but they refuse to remain silent for long.