Plot-knots

Or is it plot-nots?

I have a few I realize at 4:30 this morning as I lay staring at my alarm clock while the dog licks my face. It’s Saturday for fuck’s sake. Must untangle before I can proceed to ending Stone Cloud.

Thank god for caffine.

Hello Again

Yeah, I know. It’s been nearly a year since I last blogged. Inola is coming up on her first birthday, and I’m just that much older. (I think I should write her name as iNola.)

Truthfully, sometimes life is just plain boring. Which pretty much sums up the past year.

No trip to Mexico this year. That sucks.

I did write another book this year. A first draft, at least. Loosely based on the short story I wrote for OSC’s Literary Book Camp. It’s now aging.

In the meantime, I started to do another revision to Flyers, Swimmers, and Walkers. Then I got distracted because I woke up one morning with a new ending for Stone Cloud. Of course, you can’t just change an ending. I had to make revisions along the way. This is a good thing. I am now at the end. Only I can’t write the ending. What’s with that?

When – if – I finish that ending for Stone Cloud, I will do one more round of queries and if nothing happens, I may e-publish it. What the heck – why not?

I broke down and joined Facebook. I have lots of political and union activists “friends,” but I sure could use some writer-friends. How do you get friends, anyway? Is it too pathetic to say – “Hey – I need friends”? Oh, wait – isn’t that what you do on Facebook? I can’t say I understand the idea completely yet.

I can’t do Twitter. I don’t own a cell phone.

Viva la Mexico and Happy Birthday to Us

I really did go to Mexico.  That’s the view from my lounge chair.  I had a great time. Came back speaking Spanish. I did a lot of sitting and staring at blue skies and green trees. I ate like a little piggy and actually lost weight. I read a book and even managed to do a little writing. Vacations without children are a wonderful thing.

And then, shortly after we returned, my daughter had her baby girl. On my birthday. How cool is that? She weighed 7 pounds and was 19 inches long.  Absolute perfection! I have spent the last few weeks making her dresses and bonnets and blankets and showing her picture to anyone who moves.

As for writing, who gives a crap? I have a granddaughter!

I can’t take any more!!

The dream

This winter thing has been going on long enough, thank you very much.  And I, for one, am SICK of it.  SICK, SICK, SICK.  I demand SUNSHINE and GREEN.  I want daffodils

. . . the reality

and crocuses and tulips.  I want newly budding trees and earth, for heaven’s sake.  I have worn the same pair of depressingly dark wash jeans and big, chunky boots to work everyday for the last month because I no longer CARE what the hell I look like. I am sick of wearing a coat, gloves, scarf and toque every time I step outside.  I have worn out my flannel pjs and my fingers and toes hare permanently numb.  How am I suppose to write with numb fingers?  And my nose has been dripping since November. AND I heard it’s supposed to be cold for another three months.  WTF???

I’m going to Mexico.

 

decisions, decisions

I pause for a moment. Flyers is done. Some queries have been sent – to those agents not asking for synopsis; still have to finish one.  Will wait until round two, I think. A few “no, thanks” already received.  Not despairing yet.  Still plenty of time for that.  I could continue to fiddle with mss. Not sure that’s good idea. So I hover, waiting. 

 Now what?

 Ideas brewing.  Some are swimming.  Nothing is begging to be written.

 Should I go back to reading? 

 Should I look for something quick and unassuming, something I can start and finished in three to six months, or should I plunge back into another three-year commitment?

 Decisions, decisions.

Done, done and done

So I finished The Flyers, the Swimmers, and the Walkers last night.  I completed the final revisions, after much angst and after spending far more time on this project then I ever intended.  92,488 words.  It’s done.  Finished.  Complete.  I should celebrate.  I even have a query written.  There’s still the matter of the synopsis.  Today’s task.

And then what?

When I’m writing, I’m full of hope, full of anticipation.  When I’m finished, reality floods back in and the Voices start:  who are you kidding?  This sucks.  Hope you like rejection ’cause you’re in for it big time.

Someone tell me how to shut the Voices up.

This isn’t just a manuscript.  It’s three years of my life that I will never get back.  Three years of typing, thinking, creating, falling in and out of love and then falling back in love again. Three years of fighting distractions, of struggling, giving up, starting over, giving up some more and starting again.  Three years of working at an exhausting day job and writing during lunchtimes, early in the morning, late at night, weekends. In my sleep.

I had to buy a new keyboard yesterday.  I wore the old one out.

Bye-bye, Grace.  Bye-bye, A’Tac.  Bye-bye, Jack – sorry I had to kill you off. Thanks for choosing me to tell your story. I will miss you.