I’m a little over 36k words in on my new WIP – the one that I’ve actually been WORKING on. It took me a bit of time, but I’m finally getting pretty immersed into it which is both strange, and nice. It’s coming along. Still don’t know exactly where it’s going, but I’m hoping that the story lets me be done in one book, rather than four or six. I’m thinking I might tell different stories FROM that world in different books, but I can’t express how badly I want to resolve a specific character’s story quickly (even if only to prove to myself that I can do it).

So that’s why I’m behind on reading posts here. I’ve been writing, writing, writing – trying to find little moments here and there to catch up. I’m working on it.

It’s also why I haven’t asked for guest bloggers yet. Well that, partially, and because I’ve asked two of my friends (REAL LIFE FRIENDS! Yes, I have a few of those) to be the first ones. They’re both busy, but hopefully it will happen sometime relatively soon because they’re both exceptional (both as writers, and in general). Not saying that you’re not exceptional too. 🙂

I honestly don’t know how people manage to get so many things done while simultaneously doing other things. I feel like I’m running myself ragged right now. And it’s a LOT different this go-round (writing a book), now that I have so many other things to keep up with. The last time I was writing, I didn’t even have a cell phone. I got one during some stage of editing for the last series. Now I’ve got a phone which is constantly screaming game notifications at me (and the occasional text). Social networking, this blog. Writing a book, as many of you know, is such a consuming thing.

I’m trying to find a balance. Be patient with me . . . it might take me awhile.

I guess it’s just strange to me, wanting to crawl back into my little hermit-hole and feeling like I can’t do that anymore. This blog forces me to be OUT there when I want to retreat, and honestly? I’m grateful for that. It’s forcing me to realize that there is an entire world going on, outside of whatever world is taking place in my head at any given moment.

Change and adaptation are good things, as long as you’re changing/adapting in a positive way.

I need to learn how to balance. Hopefully it will happen.

In other news, I’m contemplating chopping all my hair off.

I’ve been thinking about a pixie cut for a very long time now, but I’m so worried. A) That I would hate it and spend three years of growing my hair out to fix it. B) That I will look like a boy. C) That people will take one look at my jawline and be like, “That chick could nom on some steel with that jaw.”

Husband is of no help with the decision. He would say he likes my hair short when it’s short, or long when it’s long. And of course my friends say that I’m being ridiculous, but how am I to know whether they’re saying that honestly or if they’re sitting there touching their fingers together and thinking, “You will look like a boy.” *cue internal maniacal laughter*

I don’t know.

That’s where I’m at.

Hope everyone has a wonderful morning/day/whatever.




Failing Words and Suds

I didn’t sleep well yesterday.

At this point, I’m not sure if I should blame it on the windows letting too much light in, the fact that I should’ve known better than trying to fall asleep after the sun came up (without the windows covered), or all of the thoughts and ideas swirling around like little smoke clouds inside of my head.

I’m going to do this tomorrow.  That’s something to do.  There’s a new bit of something to add to the game plan.

I’m sure it was a combination of all those things.  So forgive me (in advance); I’m far too tired to have the sense of what I do and don’t want to say.

While walking upstairs from my last cigarette break, I was thinking about bubbles.  Not the pretty sort with the little rainbows on them, floating around easily before they burst apart in a spray of tiny suds.  I’m talking about the kind of bubbles that we find ourselves trapped inside of periodically throughout life – or that we step into willingly.

My life is a life of bubbles, I realize.  It sounds ridiculous; I’m coherent enough to know as much.  I’m trying to find the words to explain it correctly and I’m failing.  I hate feeling like I’m failing words.  I can’t express how much I hate it.

I lived in whatever bubbles suited me best at whatever time when I was growing up.  Varying colors, varying opacity, varying space.

I’m not sure that I really knew what that meant until now, thinking about the way they’ve changed for me…or the way that I’ve changed for them.  I’m not sure.

When I was writing my books, I was stuck inside of these impermeable bubbles.  I couldn’t see out of them.  I don’t think that anyone could see inside of them.  Maybe they could a little and I was too busy admiring the beauty of it alone from the inside.  They were so beautiful.

I’m inside of a new one now – one that I can see out of clearly.  I can see all the beauty outside while it passes by me.  Life.  Life is beautiful, no matter how much bad we experience throughout the course of each of our own.

Right now?  I feel like I’m stuck here, waiting for that damn bubble to pop.

I think we’ve all had our moments where we felt like life – in all its intricacies, and roads, and deceptions, and potholes – was passing us by.  I think we’ve all felt stuck before.

My problem right now is I can’t explain the difference in that feeling and what I’m actually feeling at this moment.  They are two COMPLETELY different things.  And I’m failing words again.

I’m so sorry that I can’t do you better justice.

Taking a step back.

Those moments of feeling stuck while you were watching life…I know that every time I’ve experienced it, I always felt that some force was holding me back from what I wanted to do – whether it was myself, situations, or another person.  THAT is how this moment is different.  There’s nothing at all holding me back, but there I am, still trapped and watching.

It’s new.  Almost equally unpleasant.  Possibly more so because I can’t really understand it.  Possibly more so because I’ve allowed myself to be open to the endless possibilities.  Possibly more so because I finally have a dream.

It will happen.  I know that it will.  I don’t care if it’s my own determination, some talent that I can’t actually see, or just the natural way that bubbles disintegrate and disappear when exposed to the air.  It will happen.

I need to work on my patience.  With myself.

I know this was way deeper/emotional/ridiculous than my usual entries.  Sorry.

I just figured I’d try that thing where getting stuff out makes you feel better.


I’d rather write a book.

I don’t fail words so easily when I’m doing that.

The Slippery Slope Leading To The Peak Of Patience

Alas, I have slipped up…at least in a sense.

There I was a few days ago, rambling on and on about this newly found sense of patience – as if I’d achieved some zen-like state of being through countless hours of meditation and just a dash of repaid good karma.  It would’ve been a close description of how I was feeling at the time.

Talking about my books has made me want to go back through them.  That shouldn’t be a problem, you say?  Well, it is a MAJOR problem, given that I am incapable of going through them without touching them.  Oh, believe you me – I could tie my hands together at the wrist, turn the pages with my teeth, and I swear to you…I would find some way to use a sparkly pen.  This is wrong.  And THIS is wrong.  UGH.

It wouldn’t be an issue at all if 1 was not currently being spruced up by my friend.  Now, what in the world would be the point of removing makeup halfway through putting it on?  That would be counterproductive (when the makeup artist is doing an impeccable job), among other things that I don’t feel like listing off.  If I make changes – any at all – then how would I know for sure whether I was doing more good than harm?  I couldn’t possibly know.  You don’t RE-EDIT a book behind an editor (or WHILE it’s being edited), do you?  Well, maybe some people should, on some occasions.  I won’t get myself started on that; I’ve been ranting for days.

So, knowing myself, I cannot touch 1 until I get it back (she’s guesstimating around June 1st and I will cross my fingers on that because knowing something gives less room to lose your mind over it).  I’ve thought about going through 2-4 because I could make changes here and there before I hand the lot of those over into her capable hands.  That would be fine.  [Insert overly dramatic/loud sighing sound here]

I can’t touch those without reading 1 first.  Yes, I know the story and the characters inside and out; that’s not the issue.  I’m just insane and have to do things in order.

Basically, I had about………..5 or so days of that wonderful, at-peace feeling, and now?  Well, now I am feeling much like my usual, anxiety ridden self.  It’s a bummer.  A major one.

I’m flustered, not knowing what in the world I should do for the next month.  Sure, I have things that I COULD do, but I want to work on my books.  I want to get them to the point where I will feel comfortable enough to start querying again.  Querying intelligently.  I’m still feeling good about that bit – the remainder of the game plan.  I will do things right.  I will do things as well as they should be done…because I CAN.  I am capable of that.

If I’m capable of that?  Please, someone, tell me why I am not capable of settling down for a month (because surely I will be waiting much longer than that while querying).

And for GOD’S SAKE, someone please explain to me why there is a picture of ABBA (TWO OF THEM?!) in the related content section.  I’m shaking my head.

And now I’m chuckling a little.

And now I’m angry because Dancing Queen is trying to play itself in my head.


Taking a deep, calming breath and finding the correct path again.


So.  A month.  I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.  I started making playlists for each of the 4 books the other day, but my internet is still being ridiculous (hence me reversing my sleep schedule so that I can use the internet off of the ‘peak hours’).  Can’t do that, really.  Either can’t look up lyrics (during the day with crappy internet), or can’t listen to music (at night with sleeping Roommate).  So that’s out of the question for another few days at least.

I’ll tell ya – wanting to work on your books and not being able to?  You don’t want to do diddly else.  Nothing else seems productive.  Nothing else seems worth the time; it could be spent doing something SO much better.

Plus, talking about them has made me ridiculously excited about them again – perhaps more so than I ever have been, actually.  Now I know that – when I get them back – they’ll be so much better.  They’re good now.  I might be a bit biased on that, but aren’t we all?  But when I get them back?  They will be good enough that I’ll WANT people to read them – good enough that I’ll feel comfortable with saying, “Look what I did.”  Of that, I have no doubt.  If you all could see how much she’s helping, you would want to steal her from me.  You can’t.  She’s mine.





I don’t know what to do.  Maybe I’ll occupy myself on here or something.

Maybe I’ll get around to making other ‘networking’ type sites.  Who knows?

But I can pretty much assure anyone reading this now that anything I write on here over the next month or so will hold very little relevance to anything.

I might say things like, “So..there are like…a million mockingbirds flying around in our neighborhood.  I think one of them has made a nest inside of the large bush in the backyard.  It attacked my dog about ten times today.”  Worthless, but true.  And my poor dog (Pig) thinks the bird wants to be her friend.  Sad fact of life.  Maybe I could write an entry about how we all have unhealthy friendships at some point in our lives.  Then again, maybe I won’t bother.

Soreee in advance for any future frustrated and anxious ramblings.

Yes, I know I spelled that wrong.  It was intentional.

I’d better stop there before I start ranting about something else.

Like misspelled words.  Or the internet.  Or the ABBA/Dancing Queen recommended tags (I might just tag them anyway since it won’t leave my head).  Or my right foot being asleep.  Or the fact that my computer chair mysteriously moves every time I leave the room.

Or just the simple fact that I want to visit with my main character.  I miss her like a best friend that I haven’t seen in years.


Good night/day to you all.