Archive for May, 2011

I got nothin.

Except a headache. Gods bless the writer who has no “day job”.

I was off Monday, so I took it *off* from the project. Dabbled with my other side stuff and just spent time with everyone here because I hadn’t all weekend.  Jump back into the grind this morning and between it being the end of the month, accounts receivable takes hours,  and one of the technicians having a meltdown of common sense, forcing me to type out a two page write-up, my head hurts and no amount of anything seems to be working to get rid of it. If I want it gone I apparently need eyes closed and an abundance of drugs. Neither of which appeal, but are obviously necessary.

I’m out. Just admitting I haven’t done jack for two days. I’ll feel guilty about it later when my head doesn’t hurt and I actually care. Right now, I just want that dark room and the drugs.



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I forgot every single thing I wanted to say.

I did learn a lesson today. Never have your work open and have a simple grammar problem and be too tired to figure it out when your child walks into the room. She *WILL* give you shit on Facebook.

“Just put a comma right there.”

“I had one right there and Word didn’t like that, either.”

<insert comma, naughty little underline disappears.>

“Fuck me.”


Word count: 9, 370.

New words:  1053

Tomorrow is another day of rewrites. Ta!

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Thank you.

Casual readers and subscribers, alike. You’re not only appreciated, you’re keeping me honest and motivated.

(sorry, the use of BOTH instead of ALIKE, was bugging the flying Hell outta me. I had to come back and fix it. )

Christ on a crutch, I’m tired. I finally stopped the rewrites about an hour ago, had to get up and walk and finally remembered it might be a good idea to eat. I’m jacked up on Dew, smoked half to death, and totally, blissfully exhausted. It’s been years and years since I was able to sit at a computer and just *write*, so totally immersed in a world other than my own that I don’t even hear a thing going on around me.  Today was one of those days and my back is paying for it. Gods, I’m old. LOL!

After the blog this morning, I put Gram’s tv on the cowboy channel and left her to it, going into the sun room and reclaiming my old desk from my absent husband. A lot of my stuff isn’t on my desk anymore because he uses it more than I do now. The IWTV poster still hangs over it along with all my Mardi Gras masks, The Axe ™ and a green candle in the shape of an alien head. Good memories right there. It was like coming back to an old friend even if I did set my laptop on the desk instead of using the desktop. I did remember to pee on occasion about the time my eyeballs were floating, so I’d get Grams a drink or a snack as she needed it through the day.  She spent a good amount of time giggling, so I know she was happy and I was happy not to understand a word the tv said. Hear it? Barely. Understand it? Nope. It was a beautiful thing.

I thought I’d take a break and get back to it, but now I’m not so sure.  Annnnnnnnd I guess I *am* taking a break. Cheap Trick just blared from the phone. “Mommy’s alright, Daddy’s alright, they just seem a little weeeeeird….” My kiddo’s calling. She wants to go to the tropical fish store. If there’s one thing I love as much as my vampires, it’s my fish. How can I pass that up?

Word count: 8, 317

*Booyah*, Bitches! LOL!

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Sometimes people surprise you in the best way.

Yesterday afternoon I printed out my pages so I could hold them in my hand and take a red pen to them. Kinda like with the whole Kindle movement, I prefer having a book in my hand, so I thought if I printed them it would be a tad easier to scribble some notes and get my ass back in gear. I was at work, so I had this nifty laser printer that shot them out double-time and alllll crisp and clean…. and I had a moment. I’ve been writing for so damned long, I think I had become a little jaded by the fact until I started this project. Being sick just sucked me right back into it all over again until I held those neatly printed pages in my hand. Crisp, neat words on clean white paper. And they were mine. My advice to anyone now is if you get in a rut of any kind, print the pages. All of them. The physical weight of them in your hand is nothing compared to the psychological weight.

Fresh from this giddiness,  I wanted to share that feeling with my husband. Thirty or so minutes to go at work, so I took a Xanax. Geez.

See, he had no clue I had started this. He doesn’t get me and the worlds in my head, but that kind of moment  is so *squeal* you want to share it with the one you love. So, I did. Once he was done saying that someone had to make us rich, he said he was proud of me. I got a kiss and a hug. Which was good because I was nearly on the floor and he needed to hold me up.

People surprise you sometimes if you let them. And now that the weight of the guilt I’ve been feeling because I’ve secluded myself in my bedroom every night is a little less the monster that it is, I can actually say today is a good day.

Word count: An abysmal 6,238…

But it’s the start of a three-day weekend for me and my husband, hero that he is to me today, is going to be working all day. My grams will still be here with her infernal tv, but! I’ll manage because I have pages to rewrite and for right now, all is right in my world.

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But I am today!

Whatever triggered the migraine on Tuesday slapped me in the face yesterday and zapped all my energy. I did little but sleep from 5pm-ish until 6:30 this morning, only to wake up to a nasty, nasty bug. Managed to go to work, but not stay. Came home around 11am and *poof*, right back out again. Several friends are reporting the same thing. Geez, thanks for passing it my way. Preesh!


That’s Laurell K. Hamilton’s blog. I had to laugh because I feel her pain sometimes. Sometimes the voices are too many and it’s hard to think clearly and hear the one who needs to speak  for all the other voices clamoring for attention. The last two days I haven’t had that problem because all I’ve been seeing is the inside of my eyelids for the most part.  My word count is zero new and likely will stay that way tonight.

Last I posted to the blog I had critiqued a friend’s work.  The next morning, turn about was fair play and I did what I swore I wouldn’t do. I sent her mine. I’ll omit the drum roll because she and I were in complete agreement. It needed more. Esteban wasn’t shining through. I blame that on Lien trying to shine so hard. I had already come to the decision that I needed to stop trying so hard to advance and take a step back and fix what was broken, expand upon what was lacking. Her opinion showed me I was right.

Today, though, in my fight not to keep running back and forth to the bathroom, Lien whispered that one particular scene wasn’t right. I’ll fix that later. While I sit here and drink enough water to drown a fish, I’m seeing things in my head that need to be changed…. and losing half of them within five minutes because I feel so bad. Shit. I’ll have to open the file, scribble some notes, but then my ass is going back to bed. I’m going to have a quiet conversation with Esteban because this story was so long ago in his history that he’s a different vampire today. I have to get reacquainted with the person he was, versus the person he is eight years forward. He and Lien, both.

Word count: unchanged, damnit… *sigh*

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I solved an issue earlier after talking to a friend about her first thousand plus words; what to do about a chapter break vs continuing on with a chapter in the case of Lien, as in Julian (not Julien, long story how it got that way), leaving Destrey to go talk to his father. Two diff subjects, same main character, same night, within the hour or so. Break or continue? Break. Do another chapter and get back to Destrey in the next and Este in the next. That’s a good flow for what’s happening. There was, after all, 75k in words to go at that point. Lots of room, no need to skimp and cut things short because it can be as long as I want it to be. And that’s liberating.

That was when I noticed I left my jump at home. *sigh* Not that I can or even want to work on it during the day, but maybe pull it out and scratch a note if I need to would be nice. I put the jump back on my keychain when I got home. Right after I took something for the disco lights dancing in my peripheral vision. Yes, Virginia, we had a migraine coming. *insert second sigh of the day*

The kind I have are light and noise sensitive. I already have hearing damage from years of aspirin abuse – because my head hurt and I couldn’t convince docs I was in real pain and needed meds, how NOT funny – that’s caused damage that makes me not only sensitive to sound (my grandmother’s tv, anyone?), but have directional sound issues. I hear everything in my left ear as if it’s coming from about twenty feet behind me and on a diagonal. So, having a migraine makes every little squeak sound like the screaming beansidhes charging into the room are going to be attacking from behind when they’re right beside me. Gods help me if I ever really am attacked because I’ll never know where the Hell it’s coming from until it’s too late. Throw in a car accident I had a few years back that destroyed my neck and we have a recipe for happiness on a daily basis.

Pill taken, headache fading – or would that be that the pill makes you give less of a damn that it hurts? – what did I do? Critiqued the aforementioned friend’s first thousand plus words. I’m sure she hates me by now, but I expect her to do me the same courtesy of eating me alive when I send her my first draft. I want to be nit-picked to death when I do because I respect her opinion. I’ll let you know later if she still respects mine.

Word count: 6, 185

Rock on.

She does. Thank gods.

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Word count: 5, 234


Just self-reporting before I go to bed!

Since Lisa brought up soundtracks and I’m wide awake now, I’ll second her. Everything has a soundtrack and my ipod is FILLED with songs that set one character or another off in my head. Fae dragons? Let the Bodies Hit the Floor! Good old Javier? Play The Flame, Cheap Trick, and that man’s so awake I forget everything else.

The only horrible thing is I cannot write *while* the music is on. It’s too distracting. I listen to the playlists, but it has to go OFF to write. I need silence, or close to it.

Take the last few hours, for instance. 9:30 or so, I get the laptop and go to bed. The husband is in his man cave. The tv is on hockey, but it’s down very low. Fish tank over there is bubblin. I’m good. I can write. But put Bonanza on the tv, at any volume, and I’m not writing a word.  Whatever is on tv has to be something I like, even if I can’t hear it.

Yes, I’m weird.

The very weird part is this project has no soundtrack. None. I tried and tried and I got nothin.  But I’m being more productive with this than I have ever been with any previous attempt.

Hmm. Food for thought.

Goodnight, Gracie.

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