In the Quiet

It’s Tuesday. I’d hoped to get more done but I haven’t. It’s been one distraction after another and then earlier, and my focus is completely off. But it’s finally quiet, household things are done, people have been talked to, animals have been fed, and I can settle down to peaceably write and knock out some thoughts.

Which is all well and good and dandy, until I get to a point in my writing where I turn a corner in the maze of the plot and accidentally hit a wall.

Well, actually, it’s more like there’s a wall in this universe, but right next to me is a trans-dimensional portal that will take me to another universe/story and I can see an entirely new world and character just waiting there. But I’m trying to finish one thing at a time, damn it! No dimension-hopping for me, not yet. I’ll just take a couple notes until this wall clears in front of me.

I’m never really at a loss of something to say–except when I’m working on a blog. I can start stories and poems and songs, no problem. They’re all jumbled in my brain, waiting to come out. Details may escape me for a short time, but actually having nothing to say or type? That doesn’t happen.  Unless, of course, I’m blogging. Then my mind goes blank; I can’t think of what I’m supposed to say or do or write about. (Thus this semi-babbly post.) Really, I’ve started like several different posts today and nothing stuck. Ugh.

Anyways, I’m writing myself out of the wall. I think of it as a bit of a jailbreak sometimes–like carving out the wall with a spoon. Here a sentence, there a sentence, everywhere a sentence. Chuck the empty space over my shoulder and out of my way and keep carving until I see the light.

 

A flibbertigibbet, a will-o-the-wisp

So yesterday, I successfully wrote several pages of a short story. BOOOM. Felt good about that, I might actually finish it by the end of the week, which would leave next week for revisions (man, do I hate revisions) and maybe then I can concentrate on the REAL books. Again.

Focus is always my biggest problem. I can’t tell you how many stories/novels/daydreams I’ve started and I have all these lovely threads in my brain that just want to be woven but I CAN’T FOCUS ON ONE. It’s like I’m sitting in a field of dandelion wisps and watching each one float by me and trying to catch them, while going “OOOOH, lookit that one! No wait, oooh that one’s pretty!”

My last couple of jobs were entirely anti-focus jobs; it was a perpetual drop-something-do-this-now, oh-wait-this-needs-to-be-done-too, NO-WAIT-GIANT-EXPLOSION-OF-DEADLINES-FIX-IT-NOW kind of job and retraining my brain to be able to focus on one thing for more than 15 minutes is HARD. So hard. It’s like multi-tasking (which really isn’t multi-tasking, but you know) is now so ingrained into me that the idea of working on one single solitary project for an extended period of time sounds so…. agonizing. And slow. And unproductive. Which I know it really isn’t, but it FEELS like that.

But no, that’s how I’m going to get shit done right? One thing at a time. One thing. At a time.

Oh frak.

Whew

After a weekend of pure busy-bee running around, I finally was able to write a bit yesterday. Not anywhere near as much as I’d like, but I at least got a few hundred words down and a few plot points dreamed out. And then I finished “The Beastly Bride” last night which sent me into a new spat of daydreaming and thinking.

It was a really great collection of stories and poems. I loved “Children of Cadmus” by Ellen Kushner. (I have a light obsession with Greek Myths starting from the 3rd grade) and “The Monkey Bride” by Midori Snyder was just lovely.

I’m really sad to return it to the library today. That’s the hard part about books you borrow–you don’t really want to give the ones you love back!

Is there anything more pitiful….

…than a cat getting a bath? MahHubs and I just gave The Chunky Bear-Cat (also, our first-adopted, raised from kittenhood cat) a much needed rinse and soak. She is now sitting by my desk, back leg straight in the air as she tries to respit-herself.

I don’t know if we didn’t do a good enough job of cleaning her, or if she feels like she needs more cleaning.

So I did it.

Finally after all these years, I finished book #1. And with a push from my dear partner-hubby, I stuck it up on Amazon as an ebook.

Can I just say how Gods-awfully terrifying that thought is? It’s been up for one week. I still have an incredible urge to yank it back into me. Like I’m serving under-baked cookies to guests or something.

But no, it’s out there now. For all the world to read, should they want to. I can move on to the next book, and the next project and finish all those lovely daydreams rattling around in my brain. At some point you just have to finish a project.

So that’s what this blog is for. Keeping me on track, giving me an outlet and teasing out the knots and tangles in my brain. Of which there are many.

Also, feel free to purchase my novel and send me critiques and comments!