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Still Here, Still Writing

These past two weeks.. Where do I begin?

I spent the first week bogged down by work, cleaning, and kid stuff. Every time I sat down to blog, a half dozen things would come up.

The second week was worse.

My grandmother and me, when I was just a few weeks old.

My grandmother and me, when I was just a few weeks old.

Last Monday, my phone rang just before 7:00 AM. It was my dad. My grandmother, who had spent the last two months in a rehabilitation center for her knee, was in the hospital. One minute she was fine, then her roommate heard her cough a few times, and the nurse came in two minutes later to find her completely unresponsive. My dad said he’d call me as soon as they knew anything.

As it turned out, she’d had a stroke, one that manifested as a major bleed in her brain instead of a clot. The doctors weren’t optimistic. She might survive the day, or even a week or two, but there was nothing they could do. She was moved back to the rehabilitation care center, and we all sat with her for the day. She would occasionally respond to the nurses, and she’d regained the use of her arms, but everyone figured it was just a matter of time. [click to continue…]


My Dream Writing Space


I have a beautiful writing space. My old wooden desk is centered between three windows, and while the view isn’t perfect (the house next door is a college fraternity), I do have great light. I have a dual-monitor setup. And, when the area is clean and uncluttered, it looks like the space above.

Rather expectedly, it never looks like the space above. The girls store their cars, bikes, and scooters on one side. Toys and miscellaneous junk is stored on the other. You also can’t see from that picture that my desk is situated in the dining room, a space that is horribly cluttered and usually in need of a good cleaning. Kids, you know. So, the beautiful, tranquil writing space above usually looks more like this:


A good cleaning and organizing would help (I’ll be doing that today), but there’s really only so much I can do until I can just find a new space to write. We’re moving this spring/summer, hopefully going from renting an apartment to renting a house (our goal to buy a house this year was sidetracked by some medical issues). In the perfect world, we’ll find a place that has an extra bedroom or den that I can use as my office. In the mean time, my goal is to make my space as appealing as possible.

Once I get it clean, I want to find a way to turn this odd little corner into a dream writing space. I’ll be starting this afternoon, by swapping desks around (I have two, and the other is better for writing). I’m going to find a new place for the bikes, ect., and then hope I can talk the husband into NOT MOVING THEM BACK. We’ve gone through this a few times already; can you tell? [click to continue…]


That First Draft

I spent most of last week dealing with school work, exhaustion, sick kids, and, finally, being sick myself. Between all of that, I was editing the first few paragraphs of Grisamore and writing a blurb for the website. I finally published both last night. You can find them here.

I’m back to writing today. Real writing. After a little over a week mostly away from the world of Grisamore, it feels great to be getting back into the story.

I’m currently sitting at just over 16,000 words. My goal is to hit 18,000 before bed, and then 20,000 by the end of Thursday. That’s the 20% mark, a bit behind where I hoped I’d be by this point, but I’m happy with any progress.

The first draft is meant to be the space an author uses to throw down her initial ideas about a story. It’s usually complete crap. Mine is currently holding up to that ideal quite nicely, by the way, but I’m struggling with that. I read work by amazingly talented authors, then look at my own work, and want to either throw the whole thing out or stop writing to massively edit.

I don’t do either. [click to continue…]