Sweet Pea, aka Tiny Cat, is giving me a death glare for some reason. I don't think she likes the synthpop I've got playing. Or she's just being a cat. It's hard to tell which sometimes.
I haven't written as much as I'd like in a few weeks. Honestly, I've got a semi-voluntary writer's block right now. In the last three weeks, I've moved back home, found out I've got an essentially untreatable bone spur in my right elbow (yes, the dominant one), and experienced pain unlike anything I've ever felt thanks to a medication change that will be reversed as soon as I talk to my pain specialist. Plus, next weekend is Conestoga. I'm going to be digging my nails in the whole time just to get through it. Fortunately, I get to stay at the hotel (woo!), which will make it easier to grab a little rest now and then.
I've actually realized that, without the wasband, I've lost a major reason for my writing: a need to escape what was essentially a prison. I was well on my way to losing my mind, thanks to him, and writing kept me sane. Now that I am sane, I need to dig into myself and get my motivation back. I've got another prison, for all the good or bad it'll do me, and now it's time to write to escape myself. Getting my pain medications balanced out will help. It's hard to write when you're so dosed you slur your words, and equally hard when the act of moving your fingers to type sends shooting pains all the way to your back. I just need to find my happy medium with regards to pain, exhaustion, medication, and stories.
For now, I'm going to go dye my hair. Pain really makes you feel like shit about yourself, and I need to see something other than dark circles under my eyes when I look in my mirror. At least my hair is short again. Wasband bullied me into growing it long. Now that I have my way? I have no more than three months' worth of growth in any direction. Huzzah!
And now, as Blofeld said, "No, Ms. Ward, I expect you to dye!"
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Monday, February 22, 2010
Blog Day
Apparently, this is Create and/or Update Blogs Day. I've started yet another one, called Dirt Poor Vegan (which I am), and I've finally re-acknowledged Seward's Folly. So what's up on the writing front?
I've mostly been sleeping lately. The weather's got me in a bad place, as do my allergies. However, I'm still slowly picking away at the short novel-to-novelette, and I'm working on an old rewrite that requires some actual writing. It's a habit I have to get back into, and there will be days (gasp!) when I can't write. I know that sounds like a build-up for a lousy excuse, but my lousy excuses are on the level of, "My chemo dosage was increased and today sucks balls," and, "My medication side-effects are throwing me for a loop today, and I really just need to sleep." Yes, there are in fact some excuses that will stick.
I've also been submitting like crazy. I've got a story in the Tulsa Library contest, too, and I really hope it places. It's a story I've been fine-tuning for a while now, and I think it's my best work. It's the only story I've ever written that genuinely makes me want to cry. Hopefully it'll see publication at some point.
Well, it's chemo day, and I've been WAY too active today, so I'm going to take a nap. This has been my most recent update. Hopefully, they'll soon get more frequent and more positive.
I've mostly been sleeping lately. The weather's got me in a bad place, as do my allergies. However, I'm still slowly picking away at the short novel-to-novelette, and I'm working on an old rewrite that requires some actual writing. It's a habit I have to get back into, and there will be days (gasp!) when I can't write. I know that sounds like a build-up for a lousy excuse, but my lousy excuses are on the level of, "My chemo dosage was increased and today sucks balls," and, "My medication side-effects are throwing me for a loop today, and I really just need to sleep." Yes, there are in fact some excuses that will stick.
I've also been submitting like crazy. I've got a story in the Tulsa Library contest, too, and I really hope it places. It's a story I've been fine-tuning for a while now, and I think it's my best work. It's the only story I've ever written that genuinely makes me want to cry. Hopefully it'll see publication at some point.
Well, it's chemo day, and I've been WAY too active today, so I'm going to take a nap. This has been my most recent update. Hopefully, they'll soon get more frequent and more positive.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Actual Writing Content!
Currently, I'm in a battle with myself. This is nothing new--it's been going on for 33 years this Wednesday--but the situation has taken a somewhat grave turn. My elbows are so arthritic they're damaging my nerves. It's being treated more slowly than I'd like, but it's being treated. Even now I'm waiting for a call from my pain specialist's office regarding the next step.
The upside of this, of course, is that I'm writing (or at least rewriting) like a mofo.
Because I can't really type for more than maybe up to an hour at a time right now, I'm looking through my backlog of short stories, fixing or finishing them, and sending them out for consideration. It's nice to get back into that; I'd stopped for a long time due to time limitations and health issues. I've gone through most of the shorter ones and sent them out to potential homes (hoping like hell here), gotten two rejections so far, hoping for a sale before too hideously much longer, and decided to cut a 48,000-word short novel down to a 25,000-word novella so I might submit it to more places. Because I'm crazy that way. I don't want to lengthen it into a real novel right now, so I'll hack it into pieces. Yay, the joys of being me.
My hands are hurting, so I'm going to give them some downtime. I think the length and breadth of this is a public announcement that, yes, I'm still writing. It's not as long or much as I'd like, but I'm doing it all the same. Hopefully, medical science will make it possible for me to start spending four hours at a keyboard again within the year. As things stand, I'll take being able to eat without dropping it all over myself. (There are reasons I don't wear white shirts.)
The upside of this, of course, is that I'm writing (or at least rewriting) like a mofo.
Because I can't really type for more than maybe up to an hour at a time right now, I'm looking through my backlog of short stories, fixing or finishing them, and sending them out for consideration. It's nice to get back into that; I'd stopped for a long time due to time limitations and health issues. I've gone through most of the shorter ones and sent them out to potential homes (hoping like hell here), gotten two rejections so far, hoping for a sale before too hideously much longer, and decided to cut a 48,000-word short novel down to a 25,000-word novella so I might submit it to more places. Because I'm crazy that way. I don't want to lengthen it into a real novel right now, so I'll hack it into pieces. Yay, the joys of being me.
My hands are hurting, so I'm going to give them some downtime. I think the length and breadth of this is a public announcement that, yes, I'm still writing. It's not as long or much as I'd like, but I'm doing it all the same. Hopefully, medical science will make it possible for me to start spending four hours at a keyboard again within the year. As things stand, I'll take being able to eat without dropping it all over myself. (There are reasons I don't wear white shirts.)
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