So far, so good

March 22, 2020

I’m just letting you know that everything’s going okay so far. Members of my household, including the cats, are asymptomatic. Dialysis is overcautious with us, because we’re a population that could have issues with Covid-19. I myself have kidney disease, diabetes, and an auto-immune deficiency.

Writing-wise, I’ll be honest, I can’t concentrate. I’ve been gaming a lot, mostly because that’s the only thing I can focus on. That, and work. Everything else, this whole pandemic, seems like somebody writing a bad novel.

I’m not going to get political, although I have plenty of opinions about what’s going on in my country and the world. I’ll keep them private (even to my friends). They’re in a hand-written journal so my opinions won’t bite me in the butt later.

Stay well, everyone. Wash your damn hands.

When I Disappear

March 9, 2020

I finished a book called Generation V that concerns vampires in Providence, RI. (Full disclosure, I wrote Vampire: The Masquerade fan fiction that takes place in Providence. It’s nothing like this book I read–let’s just say, the Giovanni were heavily involved.) Most of the setting was pretty accurate, so I wanted to find out about the author, M.L. Brennan , and, I don’t know, strike up a conversation?

I went to her website.

She disappeared off the face of the Web in 2018.

I’m thinking, what the hell happened to her? Did she die? Decide to move on? Change her name? Her most recent book is 2014, so what happened?

This has made my newest OCD obsession (my soon demise) rear its ugly head and prompted me to start preparing for The End. I have a designated social media person who will update my socials (here, FB, Twitter, Instagram) so that if someone comes to my website after my demise, they’ll know what happened.

Looking at the empty two years of this person’s blog also made me decide to update y’all.

First, Grimaulkin Collected is on Amazon, Smashwords, etc. It’s the three Grimaulkin books available as an ebook only for one low price. Mind you, I can’t sign your Kindle, so you’ll have to come see me and get a real paperback (or hardcover, if you’re so inclined).

Second, my newest WIP. I had planned on getting it done by April, sent to the publisher in June and have it out maybe in September. Well, no such luck. Simply because I’ve been sitting on a scene, trying to think of how to forward the plot a week. Do I go into detail about the main character’s doings of that week? If so, what does he do?

I spun (spinned?) my wheels for three, count ’em, THREE weeks. Finally, this morning, in the shower, I said, “Screw it. Just go to the next plot point.” Now it’s like a dam’s broken and I’m full of what’s going to happen next, then next, then next. All I have to do is write it all down as fast as I can.

It’s unknown whether I’ll get to Rhode island Comicon, mostly because of the Cornoavirus scare and my own health issues. Again, OCD on steroids, so I’m anxious about possibly getting sick. Especially now that I’ve heard that there is a local case. What will happen in November? Who knows?

Tired.

February 16, 2020

I decided to do an event, the Cumberland Library Author Expo. It was only from 1-4.

I was rusty. I couldn’t seem to get into telling people about my books. After the third person, though, I fell into the routine. Plus a fan showed up! (But she already had all my books.)

I realized, too, that I was tired after just four hours. How would I be after ten? RI ComiCon is on the docket, and I really want to do that because I think it would be a good sales opportunity for all the books that Paper Angel Press and Water Dragon Publishing have, not just my own.

Mind you, it was after dialysis, so I was probably tired from that. For ComiCon, I would have dialysis on Thursday and Friday, not on Saturday or Sunday. Setting up would be Thursday; Friday night I’m there from 3-9, Saturday 10-9, Sunday 10-3. It sounds grueling, but I’ll have my son with me helping me out. I might ask my friend and pay her some money to come help me, too.

I might also do Autumfest, but not if i have to set up the tent. I’ll be happy to share with someone else.

It helps if I pay my dues to the Association of Rhode Island Authors, though.

My life, in three words

February 9, 2020

Dialysis: My life revolves around the needle and the machine. Three days a week, first thing the morning, I get stuck with two needles. One has my blood going in, one has my blood coming out. And for four hours I sit, sometimes napping, most times staring out into space, sometimes reading, sometimes listening to music or podcasts. Four hours I wait, watching the clock like Fred Flintstone, while the machine filters the toxins out of my blood. Then a half an hour both to stick me and to disconnect me. Half an hour to and from the place. Six hours, three days a week.

Work: Three other days a week, I work for ten hour days. Luckily, it’s not a totally stressful job, where I have to take it home on the days I don’t work. I moved my office to the third floor because the cellar was freezing in the winter (50 degrees, and no heat). Good thing about it, I now have heat. The bad thing? (Or maybe it’s a good thing,) I can’t snack as much as I used to because the kitchen is in the basement/cellar, and my office had been right off the kitchen, in a refurbished “pantry”. After last year’s Purge cleared out the pantry, I had more room for the computer and papers and a chair. But it was cold, even with a space heater.

Sleep: The final day of the week, Sunday, is a day of rest. And I mean rest. I’ve timed that I can sleep for 12 hours. If I sleep after seven a.m. on Sunday, I’m up until at least nine p.m. Sunday night, when my usual bed time is around six or seven p.m. Then I’m up at 4:30 Monday morning to start it all over again.

This week is a little different, in that I have dialysis on Monday and Tuesday. Last Saturday I couldn’t have it because my access, the port where they plug in the needles, was clotted with blood. I have to go to a special out patient procedure to get the clot cleared out. Supposedly, according to the nurses at the dialysis center, they put a balloon in my graft to expand the area and get the clot to flow. But where does the clot go?

I have been worried sick about this. My OCD has kicked into overdrive when I’m wondering whether or not I’ll have a stroke or a blood clot to the brain. My blood clots well, sometimes too well; which I don’t understand since I have anemia.

Writing: I’m trying to write daily, but it’s been such a chore that I’m lucky if I can get a hundred words a day out. The story I’m writing is one that I’m interested in, but it’s testing my memory. It takes place in 1974 Providence, RI, during the height of the organized crime gangs in the area.

I’m wracking my brain about whether things existed in 1974. Remote controls? No. Lids on paper cups? They didn’t have that, or hot paper cups, either. Styrofoam. Aluminum can Budweiser? Nope, bottles. Recyclables? Are you kidding me? Smoking in bars? Yep. Drinking on the job? Yep. Weed, meth, heroin? Yep, yep, yep (though meth wasn’t what it is now–it was speed, then).

My goal is to get it done by the end of the summer, so that it’s available for RI Comicon (Yes, we’re going this year, November 6-8.). There will be no magic involved in the story, which means I have to make my protagonist very crafty. He will be. He has a lot of secrets to hide.

Resolved: More Cowbell

December 25, 2019

I need to get cracking on writing some stories. I’m involved with a writers’ group now and I have no excuse.

Well, I do. I have no ideas.

But that’s an excuse, not a reason. Being tired is an excuse. Having no time is an excuse. I can’t let that stop me.

I’m thinking of getting back to 800 words; if not daily, then at least three times a week. Maybe on my dialysis days.

My goal is to get a novel out next year. Since Nano was a bust, I have to start with something different. There’s a big market for romance still, but I have such a hard time getting into ti. YA is still a big thing.

What to write, what to write. A whole different genre? Something that brings some order into my chaotic life?

Writing prompts, ahoy.