One Journey Completed

On July 21st, I typed The End on my book, Journey of a Broken Writer. Y'all, I'm silly. The editing was an emotional journey, too. I cried for so many reasons. I learned more about myself, my life, and writing in the editing process than I had expected. 

I couldn't afford to hire a professional editor, and even if I could have, the process likely would have taken much longer than the two weeks I spent working through the manuscript with AI.

Don't think for one minute that it was easy. The AI didn't "fix" things. It flagged potential issues chapter by chapter. I reviewed each one, decided whether I agreed, revised the manuscript myself, and moved to the next chapter.

"Surely it couldn't have been that hard if you used AI to assist?" 

You would be incorrect. This was what I can only call an Editorial Event. And it took multiple sessions. In fact, I think that's what I'll call this from now on. I have three more books to edit.

Below is a breakdown of what each editorial pass examined. 

Structural Editing — Does the book work?

Developmental Editing — Does each chapter work?

Line Editing — Does each paragraph work?

Copy Editing — Is the manuscript technically clean?

Publication Editing — Is it ready for readers?

Thematic Analysis — What is the book really about?

Author Reflection — What does the book reveal about its author?

AI didn't just give me a list of things to fix. It reviewed every chapter through seven different editorial passes. I reviewed the findings, made the corrections, and asked for the next chapter. The work contains 62 chapters. This took days. Long, tiring days that left my neck, back, and butt aching and the rest of me exhausted. By the fifth pass, I wondered what else had to be checked. Couldn't I stop there? No, I needed all of them. 

And I especially needed that last pass. 

The revelations from that pass were encouraging and heartbreaking. It didn't just read my book. It read me. Those words won't be in the book. And that is where I put The End and cried. 

Oh, maybe that sounds silly to you. It does to me when I reread it. But you don't know what it took for me to arrive at this spot. You can't know what I had to do to write Journey of a Broken Writer. 

I don't know if anyone will buy or read this book. I wrote it to encourage other writers who have experienced discouragement at some point. By the end of this editorial journey, I understood I was writing it for someone else. I wrote for a 15-year-old girl who had seen her dreams crushed. 

I wish I could go back and tell her they were mistaken, that she had been a writer all along. I can't. So, I think I'll write another book.

Fighting Back and Hitting Targets

I think the title works. I usually save the title for last, to make sure it fits the post. It feels like I've been fighting with myself. Months of writing and walking every day while depressed and in pain have taken a physical toll, but I will admit to a bit of pride here. These are not things I can normally do on a good day. 

Writing is still predominant, even though I've been unwell. I'm now in Book 2 of the Dream Stealer series. Then I remembered that I had finished Journey of a Broken Writer last year and need to get it ready to publish. Well, why not? So, I've been working on the edits for that. Be nice if I could get that up in the next 90 days. 

Most of that was in June. I mentioned some of the health stuff in the last posts, so I won't rehash it here. Things have been uncomfortable. I was also battling a lot of depression. The only time I seem to come out of it is when I'm writing. I told someone it was easier to live in the fictional world I built than the real one I live in.

So, July is ten days in and I am finally not in pain. On the first I went in for an epidural of steroids. It wasn't really painful. The numbing shot hurt worse than anything else, but it wasn't unbearable. 

Listen, I had an epidural when I had my second child. The first one, born in 1979, was a Lamaze baby. Natural childbirth was a thing, and I was a typical 70s girl. Let's do this. Honestly, I was only in labor for five hours and had less pain than when I ruptured the disk in my C6-7 vertebra. When I had that first epidural, it required I sit bent over; and when combined with a significant front baby bulge, it's uncomfortable. You can't get around the baby. This time epidural was a piece of cake. They let me lie on my stomach.

The results have been surprising, but a relief. I still have mild-to-moderate pain in my cervical spine area. I have to take frequent breaks to prevent pain in my upper back because I sit too long when writing. I'm probably not going to be chopping wood or lifting bales but I didn't do that anyway.

Today, Mike came and cut my lawn, and because he has some pain problems of his own, I stopped writing to help him cut the yard. I love working in the yard, but for months I haven't been able to do much of anything. Since February, I've worked my way up to walking 1.6 miles. Then I had the setback with the back pain. After I helped him today, I realized that I may not be doing much cutting the yard.

Now, never in my life have I set goals. Until today. Because I have to. If I'm going to get this done in the time I have left. I need to have targets. Maybe targets are better than goals. Hmm. I like it. 

So, my targets are:

• Finish the edits of Journey of a Broken Writer and get it published under my brand. (Yes, I have one now.)
• Finish book two of the Dream Stealer series.
• Work on getting my blogs in order. 
• And exercise more because I can't stand not being able to do what I need to do.

That's it. If I can hit those targets, I'll be on cloud nine. Well, until it rains.

Compiling Documents in Scrivener 3 for Windows

 It's been a while since I posted anything here. I've been battling spinal issues for months now, and it flared so severely that I made several trips to the hospital for scans and treatment. I have an appointment tomorrow for a nerve conduction test (NCT) that I call the voodoo doll test. They put you on a gurney, stick pins in you, and send electricity through the needles. They'll be checking for any nerve compressions and where they are located. 

On Thursday I go back to the pain management doctor to see what treats he has for me. At the moment, there are no medications to relieve my pain. And a new low-pressure system came in last night. 

What I have for you today is a chart for users of Scrivener 3 for Windows. Compiling within the program is confusing and a pain. I tried the manual, but even though I am a user guide fan, their manual is not user-friendly.

I admit, I slipped out to visit the AI and was able to get a simplified guide. Well, simpler to me because I could finally figure it out with this guide. Download it if you wish. If you have a problem, leave a comment or email me from the link in the column.

Scrivener 3 for Windows Compile

The Beginning of a Dream

 

Simon Bishop: Dream Stealer

Today marks the completion of the first draft of my novel, Where Dreams Begin. 

I'm so sad it's done. 

Isn't that the craziest thing you've ever heard? I'm sad that it's finished. I feel like I've said goodbye to friends and family. 

It began a long time ago. This past year, November 12th, 2025, I was working on the original story but decided I didn't know enough about the characters' history. I've only been messing with them for 10 years. 

Anyway, I thought it might be fun to do some bios on them. I decided instead to do character sketches. I can't explain what happened, but once I began to write, the words poured out. I had 30,000 in less than 2 weeks. And it didn't stop. It kept coming at that rate. I was writing up to 8 hours a day. I cried nearly every day for a week over what I was writing. 

Let me clear up one thing. Just before this, I went into a severe fibro flare. I was in constant pain all over my body, joints, and muscles. Details of my August, September, and October nightmare are on Life on the Ledge. Those months caused the flare that resulted in an increase of Cymbalta for the pain. 

The med increase worked. Pain stopped, and my brain woke up. Literally. I began the story November 12th and finished January 31st. The final count was 134,525 words in three months. 

I should be celebrating, but I'm sad that it's over. The good news is I already have ideas about a second in this series. Yes, series! No, I can't believe that. But writing this first one has given me a whole new outlook on it. Maybe I can do it. Maybe. I'm sure going to try.

Dream Stealer was the original title of what I was writing. Where Dreams Begin is the first in the series. The title of the next ... Eye of the God. 

Just writing that is exciting. 

Hang on to your seats. This is going to be fun. I can't wait.

Oh, that fella up there? That's Simon Bishop. He's the hero.

Following Instructions

As of today, this is my word count in the novel i'm working on. My goal is to finish this by the end of January. I've never reached this level before on a single book. 

I'm also nervous. Nothing like success to slow you down. 

I began on November 12th, 2025. They were only character sketches. So I could get a backstory on my characters. I felt I wasn't really able to get them moving in the right direction because I didn't know their stories. So... here we are, mid-January and over 100K. 

Who knew Simon would ever take off like this. Of course, I'm still not at The End. Once I hit that, I'll see how it feels. 

The only change in working on this is that I've spent days at a time writing. I mean, all day long and into the night. For the first 12 days, I reached 30K. I do not know how that happened. I lost 12 lbs because I kept forgetting to eat. And I was an emotional wreck in the middle of it because of a medication increase. 

Now I'm having issues with my left leg because I decided sitting and writing all day was probably not a good thing, and I went to the gym. In two days, I put 16 miles on the bike. Bursitis invitation sent. I felt good until the third day. 

A week later, when it was better. I thought I'll spend over $100 on some good shoes and go for a walk. My friend said, "Take it easy. Don't do too much. Just see how it goes." 

Did I listen? I thought so. 

I walked my normal pace for half a mile. No biggie. I felt great. Until the next few days. SI joint flared and invited bursitis again. They've been partying ever since. I'm now in physical therapy. 

PT is killing me. My legs are so sore! 

I'm still writing most of each day, but I am taking breaks. Someone informed me today to set a timer. Not my friend. The therapist. My friend just says Uh-huh. Of course, he also says, "Get some rest." So did the therapist. 

No, they don't know one another. I asked. 

So, that's where I am. I'm sitting here writing this blog before I go to bed. And I am going to bed. I was going to write some more. After all, I have a climax scene to write. I need to get my guys on the ground. 

But nope. Bed for me. 

My friend says I never follow directions. 

Of course, I do. 

Really. 

Most of the time. 

Writing Exercises

 Ran across this old thing. This is a piece of off-the-cuff fiction I wrote. I still like it. Be advised, there are errors in it.  Do you write things like this? 

I Feel Good! I'm Going to Write Now

 It's what I call myself. Once I got the courage. When the writing group published our anthology, I called myself an author. But imposter syndrome is real.

The doctor finally prescribed a medicine that has nearly eliminated my pain. Miracles happen! Well, they do to me. Last night, I experienced a good night's rest, a first in about a year. Today, I didn't mind doing the laundry. Even after running a couple of errands, I didn't feel exhausted. 

You can't imagine how relieved I am. To get out of bed and be able to walk down the hall on feet that do not feel like railroad gravel is amazing. I can't describe getting out of a chair without my knees locking and screaming at me to sit down. Of course, walking anywhere for even a half-dozen steps seems like you won the lottery. 

My hands? You know the clunky things I used to write with... yeah, fingers. They're not hurting as much and they haven't been swelling. I have worn elastic fingerless gloves for at least a year now, not every night, but most. Haven't worn them at all this week. My fingers still hurt, but moving them is easier, and they hurt much less. 

I could even write a bit a over the weekend. That was the best feeling of all. I craved to write so much; only to find my hands hurt, my hips were excruciating, and my brain seemed to have taken a long trip. Pain steals every ounce of energy and joy. When I did write, I managed a few hundred words and have to stop and the writing was horrible. 

I am optimistic that the medicine will help me get back to writing regularly. One thing is for sure, I've done a lot of reading. I'm at 39 books on Goodreads and in the process of reading another right now. I've also been reading my Bible a lot more. I do a daily study in YouVersion every day but I also read my own Bible. 

If you're not into reading the Bible, I'd encourage you to do so. Even if you're not a Christian. If you're educated, profess to know a lot, and haven't read the cultural icons of the nation you live in, or in fact, the world, you're not educated. Most of our US Presidents have read the Bible. I suspect many world leaders have read it. To ignore something that has deeply impacted the government of our country and may others is just stupid.

Sermon over. 

Are you writing? Are you a writer? Do you suffer from imposter syndrome? You may be entitled to ... never mind.  

I feel so much better!

 

Tropes: The Building Blocks of Storytelling

Cortesy Pixabay.com

Tropes are recurring themes, motifs, or clichés in literature and other forms of storytelling. They are often used to create familiar patterns that resonate with audiences, evoke emotions, and advance the plot.

Consider tropes as the essential elements that shape and define stories. Writers can use them as a starting point to develop more intricate narratives. While tropes may face criticism for their tendency to be overused and predictable, they possess the ability to enhance storytelling by adding depth, humor, or suspense to a narrative.

Common Examples of Tropes:

• The Hero's Journey: A timeless narrative structure that follows a protagonist as they face a sequence of trials and hardships on their quest to conquer a goal or obstacle.
• The Love Triangle: A complex web of emotions involving three individuals, often resulting in turmoil and intense emotions.
• The Villainous Mastermind: A cunning and diabolical character who carefully crafts schemes to achieve their nefarious goals.
• The Damsel in Distress: A classic archetype, representing a female character in need of rescue from imminent danger.
• The Coming-of-Age Story: Immerses readers in the protagonist's quest for identity and maturity, capturing the essence of their transformative journey.

Reasons to Use Tropes:

• Familiarity: Tropes provide a sense of comfort and familiarity for audiences, making it easier to engage with the story.
• Emotional Resonance: Certain tropes evoke specific emotions, such as fear, joy, or sadness.
• Plot Advancement: Tropes can be used to drive the plot forward and create tension.
• Character Development: Tropes can help to develop characters and their relationships.

Although tropes can become cliché and predictable, writers can also employ them in innovative ways to craft distinctive and captivating narratives. A thorough understanding of tropes and their usage enables writers to skillfully integrate them into their writing.

The Error of Your Ways

Writing is such fun! I get so caught up in it when my mind works with any clarity. It hasn't been happening much of late, but when I can, I do. My hand problems seem to be persistent and I'm not sure they will improve. I have a feeling that they'll worsen. Regardless, I need to figure out a way forward. 

I was reading some things online this morning by well, writers. I got annoyed because I found several errors. It's funny how once you notice one mistake, they all stand out. Arthritis in my knuckle causes errors with the words "know" and "not". I've always been a speedy typist, hitting 70 wpm on my best days and averaging 50-60 wpm. So perhaps that's the problem. I've slowed down because of mobility issues and it drives me crazy. My son usually does the proofreading of my blogs to catch those things but not lately. He's had other things on his mind.

So, I was reading and found these errors. They're simple errors, but to catch them, you're going to have to read your text BEFORE you put it online. A trick to help is to read the text backwards. You'll catch a lot of spelling errors, but you'll also catch other types of errors as well. For example, missing punctuation or incorrect punctuation. It happens to every writer, but the pros know they must edit. 

Gone are the days when the average writer can hire fact checkers, proofreaders, and developmental editors. Writers, specifically Indie writers, are doing it all. So take the time to read over the document you're writing. Read it backwards. Read forward again. Research the mistakes writers often make. 

If you're reluctant to put the effort into polishing your prose, you're probably not cut out to be a writer. Oh, you can publish an unedited book all by yourself, but readers won't clamber for a copy. If you read the reviews on Amazon, you'll find that they will find your mistakes and point them out. Not because they don't like you, but they are paying for the privilege of reading your content. 

There're many tools available to help you with editing. You could use AI, but it's wise to get educated about grammar and punctuation. Although I don't rely on AI for help often, I have access; but I enjoy doing my own work. I know my stuff, but even I need someone to lend me their eyes and knowledge now and then. 

I wouldn't ask a hair dresser to fix my car. Unless they had the required skills. So, if you're writing The Great American novel, a blog post, a speech, or a recipe, learn to write it with skill. 

*Note: I found two errors after I posted this. I've corrected them. It was one letter short and one space too far. 

  

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. 

(✿◡‿◡)

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. 

Starting Over... Again

The July post sounded optimistic, didn't it? I have done a little writing and I was able for a bit to do a lot of things around here that had to be done. The arm is well but I've not been able to go back to the gym but once or twice. 

At first because I was not cleared by the doctor. I actually had to go get a shot in the arm to help with the pain. After several weeks, I was good to go back. I made a trip to the gym on October 12. I remeber I didn't feel well and it was a week before I tried again on the 20th. By then I wasn't feeling well at all and after my 6 mile ride, I came home. I've been down ever since. I think I've had Covid #3.

Today, I'm much improved, but still not great. I'm not coughing as much and there is way less crud in my chest and nose. I've coughed so much my ribs, back, and head hurt. And as for fatigue, I've been so tired I just fall asleep in a chair. 

I'm very annoyed because I was doing really well the first of October. I felt better than I have in a long time. I was getting a lot of stuff done, had started to write again, and planned to go down to Atlanta to visit my aunt and uncle. Two weeks ago I almost left. I was packed but the next morning I was so sick I had to cancel. 

So, here I sit. Planning what to do after I'm completely over this. 

It is very frustrating because time seems to be just slipping away. I've been battling illness for years now and I'm pretty tired of it. Or maybe just tired is a better way to phrase it. 

If my I get better over the next few days, maybe I will be able to get back into it.. writing, sewing, crochet. I feel totally useless at the moment. Always, I'm starting over and honestly, I probably should just give up. 

Whew, what a bummer this is!

Summer of Recovery

 Wow. I keep thinking things will get better. The writing is always so exciting but life, I don't know. Sometimes you feel like it is just out to get you. I had arm surgery on April 4th to repair my left rotator cuff. It was an old injury, happened around 1993. So, 30 years? Yeah. 

They had me in a sling for several weeks, but I stopped wearing it after two. The pain it caused in my neck and back was just horrible, worse than the pain from the surgery. The physical therapy was exhausting, too. I'd come home and have to go to bed. That really shocked me. I couldn't use the arm for 6 weeks and after that, I had to be careful. 

So, in June, just as therapy is winding down, I get an abscess tooth. Every single tooth on the right side of my mouth hurt. My ear hurt. My head hurt. My face hurt. For a month. It took two weeks just to find a dentist I could get in to see. I have an appointment for a root canal on the 18th, but that isn't all. I have another tooth that they need to pull and put a post in. That's will not happen, though. I don't have $5000 for a post. Nope. 

So, with enough antibiotics and antiviral in my system, the pain lessened. I still have times when it hurts but I pray I can get through till the appointment. When I had the arm surgery, they gave me 56 Lortabs for pain. I used, over the 6 weeks, about 20. The rest I used in the month I had the mouth pain. Really. Abscess tooth is worse than arm surgery. I'm not kidding. 

And no, there was no writing. I didn't reach my goal. I didn't even get close. I'm angry about it. I'm ready to just delete everything I have and forget it. I'm getting old. Time is running out. And I'm really just tired. No matter how hard I try to press on, something comes around the bend and flattens me. It's not fun anymore. 

So, there we have it. There were some positives. My sister came in May 1st and stayed the month to help me because I couldn't do anything with the arm. Embarrassing but unavoidable. I mean, I couldn't even brush my hair! I hadn't seen my sister for 4 years and it was truly lovely to have her here. I had such a good time with her.

My sister went home at the end of the month and my granddaughter Sarah came on June 5th. She stayed till July 5th. I was so happy to have her home. Sarah is a ray of sunshine when she's here and we had great fun. We enjoy one another's company so much. 

Now, here I am in the middle of July. I have thought about working on the writing but I'm so depressed over it I don't know where to start. All I've been doing lately is cleaning out closets and drawers, trying to get rid of things. I realized recently, someone is going to have to deal with all this junk, eventually. I'd rather do that myself. So, I'm taking one thing at a time and clearing it. When that's done, I've moved on to the next thing. It's working, but it is so slow. 

The doctor's released me to go back to the gym and I want to do that, but getting started is tough. I know once I get back I'll be better. But the first step, that's the hardest.

I guess it is a summer of recovery. At least, I hope we recover something. Cause it feels like everything is just messed up. 

Catching Up with Myself

 Life is seldom as we plan it. I set a couple of goals and fell short. The anthology was a lot of work, but I'm done with the draft. So, that is a good thing.

I set a goal for The End of Winter for the first write through to be finished by January 30th. That will not happen unless I can really get moving. I've had a lot of trouble with sleepiness and I can't pinpoint the cause. Also, I took on an additional writing assignment that has priority. Has to be finished this week. It will be, but it's a time crunch. 

I finished the handbag I was working, and I'm pleased with it. Although, I should have finished sooner. I still have a few bugs I need to work out. However, it looks nice and I'm ready to start a new one that I can sell. I hope. 

A Little Bitty Ditty for ALL My Dads

 A long time ago, say around 1993, I had an actual webpage. Back then there wasn't Facebook, but you could easily learn HTML online and create these cool pages. So I did. I had a lot of of poetry written in the 80's, just for fun. I'm not a poet, and I know it. 

Tonight, looking for inspiration to work on a project, I found this thing. I wrote it for father's day and posted it on that webpage. The "Dads" were the men in my life that served that function in some capacity. First, my grandfather who raised me, second, my uncle who stepped into the place of a father when my grandmother died, and my biological dad that I reconnected with after 35 yrs in about 1984. I share this Little Bitty Ditty below.

I sat down before my computer
With confidence and determination.
I knew I could knock out twenty lines
To express my great love and affection.

But when confronted by the desert,
A thirsty man craves a drink.
And when confronted by an empty page,
This writer draws an absolute blank.

So after much thought and struggle,
Followed swiftly by prayer and frustration 
I took a deep breath and stiffened my spine
And promptly passed out due to poor oxygenation.

Upon my return, I decided simple is best
Who said I had to write a rhyme, anyway?
So here it is in a clichéd nutshell 
I love you true, so Happy Father's Day!

365 Days to Write or Not

It hasn't been a great writing year. I've written more than I expected to but not as much as I wanted to. I've been sick more and of course, we've all had to deal with Covid in one way or another. 

I had Covid in October 2019 and Sarah's mom just had it this past week. I've been taking care of her. And no, I haven't caught it. But I may have had it several weeks ago when I thought I had a severe cold. Who knows these days. 

Anyway, writing. Today is the first day of a new year and if I can write one page every day for 365 days, that's pretty much a novel. An average page is 250 words! So maybe do 500 words a day for 365 days? 182,500!?? That's two novels. 

I don't do resolutions. They're lies in fancy dress, as I've pointed out in a blog post somewhere. I am going to shoot for 500 words a day. I know I won't get that much done on some days but if I do even half that, it is a lot of words.

Have a happy new year and may the words flow from your brain and out your fingers. 

Through My Veins

For three days now, I've been writing. Not new writing, but I've been editing and revising. 

On Wednesday, I suddenly opened one of my unfinished manuscripts and started working toward finishing it. This book is the closest to being a finished draft of all 9 of my manuscripts. I have a couple of others that almost as close. If I can get this edit done and fill in any holes, I can start a real edit. 

The process feels great, but I'm battling pain, fatigue, and depression. Typical day for me. 

But I'm working. Writing. I'm tired of not being able to think or use my hands. I know there's dictation, but it isn't the same. I've tried it a few times and I still have to use a keyboard to edit. And it is so slow. 

I remember when I was 11 and started writing. I loved using my pen and scratching those words onto paper. I didn't own a typewriter and couldn't have used it if I did. They hadn't invented computers yet. Pen or pencil were the only way to write. 

When I moved to the typewriter, I had to relearn to write because there is something visceral about using pen and paper. They're an extension to your body when you write. What you think pours out onto the paper through a pen. The way blood flows through my veins. I learned to type, and the words flowed out at 70 words per minute. 

Then, I got a computer when I was in my mid-20s. The pen and paper fell by way, to be used only for notes or when I had no access to the computer. Doing NaNoWriMo I learned to write faster and at last count, in NaNo alone I'd written over 465,712 words over 11 years! It's ridiculous to not have a finished novel to show for all that. 

I haven't given up, even though it feels I'm running out of time. This week I'm trying to make headway. I can tell that the longer I'm at it, the more I want to do, but my body has betrayed me so long. My neck hurts badly as I finish this post. My back hurts. My hands have hurt for days and a couple of fingers are reaching the end of their lifespan, I think. The pain of not finishing is worse. 

Living in a Mental & Social Drought

 I don't want to admit it but I've done so little writing in the last year that you could probably count the page totals on your hands. It is so stressful!

No matter how many deadlines I set, how much I commit to writing, I don't get it done. That sets the tone for my day. I worry I'm wasting time. I tell myself it is important to no one but me. Obviously that's not true. I don't even appear to care!

More than once in recent months, I've thought about whether I should just give up. Toss it all out, clean out the computer, shred my files and give up. How do you do that? The very idea sounds insane. If I did that, the aftermath would be a disaster. 

There is some encouragement when I read that writers around the world are dealing with a similar issue. Isolation destroys creativity. Looks like socializing, real socializing, is critical to creativity after all. All those stories of writers and painters suffering in garrets for their art aren't exactly accurate. We have to have visual and mental stimulation that isn't focused on the end of the world day in and day out. We need to have conversations that provoke thought and generate ideas. We require human interaction to stimulate our synapses and send a current of impressions, feelings, thoughts, and emotions through our bodies. We have to experience life to create art.

So, I'm not alone is this dry spell, apparently. I wonder if they'll have interventions and workshops to jumpstart us?

If I can just get my body not to hurt and my brain to cooperate by generating clarity, I might make progress. I wouldn't need an intervention.

A New Year! A New Year?

 

Happy New Year, Writers! And Wannabe Writers! I hope you began it with good health, happiness, and a desire to write more this year.

I had COVID-19 in October. If you read my other blogs or you're on my FB page, you probably already know about that. There's even a video on YouTube where I look like a groaning hag. 

I wish I could say that 2020 was a productive writing year. It was anything but. To save time and save boring you, my attention span has been pretty disrupted. I'm not sure why, but once I caught the virus, it got much worse. Two and a half months later, I am still struggling and I can't seem to get over the cough. 

BUT! I did some writing in December. Not really writing, but I started working on an old mostly complete NANOWRIMO story from 2010 with a plotted ending. I read thru it again and it surprised me how much I liked it. I began writing chapter summaries to organize it in my head. I can print these summaries out in Scrivener and have them handy as I write the ending. I need several chapters to get the ending finished. I suspect it will be below 80K words, maybe below 70K, but I don't think I care at this point.

There is a second NANOWRIMO novel that is nearly as complete as this one, so perhaps they will serve as a catalyst to get me moving. 

I have two more chapters to edit for my friend's book, and that seems to focus my mind more. I enjoy editing but it is a long arduous process. I do some line edits if I see something it needs, but I lean toward developmental editing. 

So, there's writing in my future, but my health will determine how much I get done. My RA appears to be under control at the moment and the fibro isn't raging. The virus playing havoc with my system insured that my immune system was too busy to bother with those issues. I need to get back to the gym. I gained back the weight I had lost, and I can tell I'm weaker because I'm not moving. 

I need to plan my days to incorporate my morning devotionals, the gym, and the writing and worry about the rest afterward. 

Please have a wonderful new year. Keep using a mask and keeping your hands clean. This virus isn't just a cold. I had a very mild case, but I have a close friend who is seriously affected by it. She failed an eye test, has neurological issues, neuropathy, and is forgetting simple things like which toothbrush is her's. This is not just a potentially deadly virus, it is disabling for some. One moderate case of it, and I do not want to catch it again. 

May God's grace and mercy keep you and bring you through a blessed year.

Day 30 of Quarantine

We've reached the 30 day point at last. I was hoping we'd be done with this thing by now but the politicians are so busy trying to milk this thing for as long as possible I think. You can't believe anything the news media say about it. Numbers are being manipulated, or they're not. People are dying, or they're not. China lied, or they didn't.

I'm keeping a check on the numbers released by Indiana State Department of Health. Not near as many hospital beds used as I expected. Not near as many ventilators either. In fact, the numbers are about what we've seen in China. In Indiana, just over 48000 tested and of that, 8000 have the virus. Of those there are just over 400 deaths. That's 5%. I think the expected was 3% but that's not surprising either.

We've stayed in and only do shopping when we really need something. Doesn't mean we're not stir crazy. Neither Sarah nor I are gadabouts. We like staying home but there are times we want to just go somewhere and have a sandwich or get a drink. Not having the choice is hard.

I haven't been writing. The computer crashed and I've spent a week trying to get it back online. At the moment, everything seems ok but does one ever know? I'm also homeschooling Sarah. To say it is challenging would be an understatement. She's such a sweet kid, but she has challenges that seem to overwhelm her. When faced with difficult material, she just becomes overwhelmed and want to quit. Fortunately, I've dealt with both her uncle and her dad with this issue so I'm aware and can handle it. That's not to say I don't have an urge to brain her at times.

Overall, I'm feeling much better. I'd love to go back to the gym and work out, but the pills I bought seem to be helping with my pain. It is considerably less and I'm sleeping better most nights. My hips still ache and make walking hard but that shooting nerve pain was worse and it is such a relief having that get better.

I'll make this short today. I haven't focused on writing topics, I know, but I'll get back on track as soon as possible. Was I ever on track?

Stay safe and stay home until this is over.

The Rest of the Story

My morning started at 7:24 a.m. when some nebulous sound woke me. I'm not one to stay in bed if I'm wide awake, so I rolled out. The sensation of little pain when I did it surprised and thrilled me. Compared to the last three weeks, my pain level felt like a 3. That's manageable if I'm careful. 

Yesterday I still could not accomplish much but felt I could go to my Monday night Shut Up & Write meeting at Panera. I'm glad I did. I wrote for an hour and got just over 1300 words. It feels wonderful to be writing again. I don't know if it's any good, but telling the story is so awesome. 

The meetings are relaxing and fun. We write the first hour, and the next hour we talk. We've had new folks join us at nearly every meeting. My experience is that writers are some of the nicest folks you can meet. I'm truly grateful to be able to join in.

Now I have a story to tell. Some of you may know that I adopted two kittens from the Humane Society several months ago. They're about 6 months old now, and I really enjoy their company now that Sarah and Chaz are gone.

Jet & Kiki both fell ill about 2 weeks after I got them and I spent a small fortune on vet bills. Kiki got well with the meds, but Jet had to go back a week later for a secondary illness and get more meds. All together it was over $300 for two strays. What can I say? I don't believe in letting an animal suffer.

They both recovered eventually and wreaked havoc on my life.

Kiki is sneaky and a curtain climber. She's getting better, but punishment has been pretty harsh. I've thrown pillows at her and dish towels. She's smaller and daintier than Jet and has a very sweet disposition. You don't pet her unless she wants to be petted, and she'll leave the room if you try.

Jet, alternatively, is quite the lover boy and typical male. The constant attention when he was very ill turned him into a demanding boy. He loves being petted and sleeping on your lap. When he plays, he plays hard, running, jumping, and tossing mylar balls for up to an hour. I'm usually a wreck by the time he's done because he insists that I play ball or he gets it hung under my chair or behind something he's not supposed to mess with.

In fact, he messes with anything he's not supposed to mess with, and that's pretty much every knick knack I own. Some are special as they came from all over the world. Oh, and anything dangling such as yarn or power cords is irresistible to him. He's everything I hate in a cat. But he's absolutely adorable when he's good. Well, let's face it, we all love to be loved. Jet loves me. His love is centered in gratitude, and so I tolerate the odious behaviors. He too gets pillows and towels and quite a few yells.

Jet is also an unrepentant thief. He steals everything; Chapstick, hair ties, phone styluses, and my eyeglass repair kit (which I found under the file cabinet ). Kiki watches with interest from a corner of the room. Sitting there like a tiny Sphinx, wondering if he'll use up a life this time or if he'll get away with it. He often gets away with it. He's even started getting on the counters, an absolute no-no, and Kiki watches. She's too small to make the leap yet.

This last two weeks, Jet has been sick again. He's had a terrible bout of diarrhea. I've wracked my brain trying to figure out the cause of it. There's been no new food, no trips out of the house, nothing that I can find that he could ingest. The mouse traps are out of reach. I keep the counters free of foodstuffs because of mice so there wasn't anything there. I also worried because I take some pretty toxic medicines and I'm always afraid I'll drop something they might eat and it would kill them. My search revealed nothing that could be the cause. I decided it was probably a virus and next Kiki would be sick. They insist on using the same litter box no matter I put two down.

But Kiki didn't get sick. In fact, she's fine. Jet, on the other hand, has diarrhea the consistency of soft serve ice cream after about 5 minutes and he's barely making it to the box. The hideously messy substance smells like an outhouse. I'm cleaning the box several times a day, including wiping down the sides with bleach wipes! It's so awful I keep the Lysol spray handy. I decided this week I should take him to the vet. I delayed because I was sick with a cold, in a lot of pain with the back and hips, and the expense of the $400 heating repair overruled me. 

This morning I was getting coffee ready when I notice a cup on the stove I keep my bacon drippings in. I keep it tightly covered with a heavy foil cover, and it has never been a problem. For several days now, I've found the top off. I figured I'd dislodged it moving things around, but I couldn't believe I'd leave it open all night. I don't have bugs or mice at the moment, but I've had issues in the past and I'm careful about leaving things open or out. No food and bleached counters keep them away.

Suddenly, a glimmer of light appeared. I picked up the cup. I haven't cooked with bacon drippings in some time, and as I said, that lid is never off unless I take it off. I created it, and it's worked well for years. I make a new one regularly. It's been off at least 4 times this week ... that I can remember.

I studied the contents. I can't be sure. I turn and look at Jet. He must sense something because he looks back from a crouched position and then darts into the den. The effects of bacon grease on a cat's intestinal track can't be good. I mean, I don't think it will kill him or anything but ... it can't be good. In fact, I suspect it could cause diarrhea the consistency of soft serve ice cream setting out for 5 minutes. 

After a discussion about this I may have said something like, "Well, if you did that, you deserve what you got." I put the cup in the fridge until I can clear it out.

Now I'm going to have to go buy bacon and fry it up to get more drippings. Imagine the trouble that's going to be.