Sunday Update - Week 31

Well, here we are again...

I let my motivation train get derailed with that idea that there are books coming out that may be similar to mine.  And then I ran across two more books with similar premises.  And then... Well, I can't change the fact that Oliver* is a cat, it's on the cover and the plot doesn't work if he's any other animal, so I'm kind of stuck.  I mean, there's something about Oliver that is probably a little different from the others - I haven't read any of them so I don't know - but on the face, it all looks very much like every other paranormal mystery with a cat.  And it's derailing me.  So, I guess what I'm saying is no new words this week.

And no editing.  Unless you count my frantic brain gyrations as I try to see if any Oliver works as any other animal.

I started the week doing a bunch of marketing, but then the sale ended and I haven't done anything.  Well, except applying to ENT for an ad.  I'll know by sometime next week whether I got a date and an ad or got rejected.

Did some reading.  DNF'd one and finished two.  And I finished one book and read an entire 'nother book yesterday.  I'll talk about those next Saturday.

On the activity front, I did 4 out of 7 days.  One of those days was bathing the cat, which knocked me out of commission for a couple days.  Last night, I walked 1.6 miles in 30 minutes - my best time/length to date.  As for weight?  Well, I saw 178 this week, but then it went back to 179.

Which brings me to baking...  Still munching on those muffins and granola bars, but we ran out of oatmeal cookies so I made more yesterday.  And I made French bread pizza.  And did I mention I bought double chocolate ice cream?  Umm, yeah.  Doing great on the activity front, totally not on the eating front.

I may have mentioned constipated kitty.  The fiber seems to be working.  Like a quarter teaspoon sprinkled in her wet food once a day.

I think that's it.  Since I'm writing this Saturday night and I just got done walking, I'm going to go collapse for a while.  What things were you up to last week?


*Saw a book after this went live with a dog named Oliver.  It was a cozy mystery, but still... Blerg.  I swear to god, I'm going to rename him Itzhak and make him Jewish.  Or maybe he'll be Pierre, but I'll make him Cajun.  What's a gal gotta do to have something original, for petesakes?  Wait.  I have an idea...  Good thing I haven't sent UatB through the publishing mill and I still have time to change him.

You May Be Alone, but You Are Not Alone

"Writing is a solitary pursuit."  I heard someone on TV say this yesterday and I was all like 'well, duh'.  But thinking about it this morning, I realized something.  This may be a solitary pursuit and one no other person can really help us with (unless, you know, you're like working on a collaborative manuscript), we're in this together.

Don't get me wrong.  I'm all about the individual - doing his thing, being his own person.  What I mean is more along the lines of we have a shared experience.  Each of us is working toward a personal goal, and along the way, we face the same pitfalls, the same elation, the same deep dark depression and endless misery.  So, it just makes sense that we help each other however we can - even if it's just putting a hand on a friend's shoulder so they know they aren't alone.

Our paths are different, but we're all walking in the same direction.  Toward publication.  (Even those who are already published are still walking.  Just because one book is sold doesn't mean the journey ends.)

So if you see someone faltering, reach out a hand and help them back up.  If you see someone making progress, cheer - because the cheering inspires and heartens.  And if you feel like you can't take another step, call out so others can maybe help.

Writing may be a solitary pursuit, but you don't have to go through it alone.

Lyric Tuesday on Thursday

I know I haven't been keeping up with the Lyric Tuesdays and this is two days late, but I thought we could all use these words today.

Without further ado, I give you...

Keep Your Head Up 
by Andy Grammer.

I've been waiting on the sunset
Bills on my mindset
I can get deny they're getting high
Higher than my income
My income's breadcrumbs
I've been trying to survive

The glow that the sun gives
Right around sunset
Helps me realize
This is just a journey
Drop your worries
You are gonna turn out fine
Oh, you'll turn out fine
Fine, oh, you'll turn out fine

But you gotta keep your head up, oh oh
And you can let your hair down, eh eh
You gotta keep your head up, oh oh
And you can let your hair down, eh eh

I know it's hard, know its hard,
To remember sometimes,
But you gotta keep your head up, oh oh
And you can let your hair down, eh eh eh eh eh

I've got my hands in my pockets,
Kickin' these rocks
Its kinda hard to watch this life go by.
I'm buyin' in the skeptics,
Skeptics mess with, the confidence in my eyes

I'm seeing all the angles, starts to get tangled
I start to compromise
My life and the purpose
Is it all worth it,
Am I gonna turn out fine?
Oh, you'll turn out fine
Fine, oh, you'll turn out fine

But you gotta keep your head up, oh oh
And you can let your hair down, eh eh
You gotta keep your head up, oh oh
And you can let your hair down, eh eh

I know it's hard, know its hard,
To remember sometimes,
But you gotta keep your head up, oh oh
And you can let your hair down, eh eh eh eh eh

Only rainbows after rain
The sun will always come again.
Its a circle, circling,
Around again, it comes around again
I said

Only rainbows after rain
The sun will always come again
Its a circle, circling,
Around again, it comes around,

But you gotta keep your head up, oh oh
And you can let your hair down, eh eh
You gotta keep your head up, oh oh
And you can let your hair down, eh eh

I know it's hard, know its hard
To remember sometimes,
But you gotta keep your head up, oh oh
And you can let your hair down, eh eh

Keep your head up, oh oh
And you can let your hair down, eh eh

Keep your head up, oh oh
And you can let your hair down, eh eh

Keep your head up, oh oh
And you can let your hair down

ETA: lyrics pulled from the YouTube video page I link to in the title - with a wee bit of proofreading by me

I Refuse

If you've been here a while, you might recall me talking about my accident.  Those first days after I was back inside me head were spent pretty much whining and feeling sorry for myself.  I spent more time thinking about how I couldn't do something than actually trying to do it.  I was focused on the pain.  Getting out of bed hurt.  Being rolled down to therapy hurt.  And therapy itself was agony (they don't refer to PT as pain & torture for nothin').

Funny thing.  The more I thought about how much everything hurt, the more it hurt.

I don't know exactly what happened to snap me out of it.  Maybe it was the nurse who told me to stop being such a baby.  Maybe it was the skanky dude with the broken back who made fun of me in therapy.  Maybe it was sitting in front of the mirror crying over how much I thought I lost.  Whatever the cause, it was a major attitude adjustment for me.

I stopped whining about every little ache and pain.  The pains were a part of my new reality and I had to get over them to move forward.  Once I realized this, everything got easier.  I started to progress at a rate that surprised my therapists.  I made getting better my one job.  Whining?  Let someone else take that job - I was done with it.

Almost 18 years have passed.  It was a lesson I thought I'd never forget, but on some level, I must've forgotten it.  I exercise a little bit and the next day I'm little Pammy*, whining about every muscle twinge.

Me.  I broke my frickin' thigh for petesakes and now achy muscles kick my ass?  I don't think so.

It's been the same with work.  It's been a long day and I'm just not up to writing?  Whine.  I had to relearn my multiplication tables at the age of 24.  If I'd whined then like I whine now, I would still be wondering what 9 x 3 is.

So, I took myself in hand this past weekend.  I made some conscious choices.  Every day I will exercise, and on those days where I don't formally workout, I'm going to clean the hell out of something.  (Sunday and Monday, I exercised.  Yesterday and today, I rearranged my library.  The shelves & books that were on the register wall are now on the non-register wall, and my daughter's desk is now underneath the window.)  I refuse to bitch about the soreness.

I refuse.

After all the work I did today, I could've just let tonight's writing time slide.  I have some really valid reasons excuses.  I shoveled snow, I rearrange furniture, I didn't sleep good last night... blah blah blah. I did the dishes (I didn't want to do them either) and I wrote.  It wasn't much.  Considering I wasn't going to do any words, the 862 I did is a win.

Whining gets you nowhere.  It never really makes you feel better.  In fact, it can often make you feel worse.  The only thing that makes you feel better is pushing forward.

No whining allowed.  I refuse to do it.  And if you catch me whining, feel free to pinch me - HARD.

What do you refuse to do?

*No offense to anyone named Pam.  PAM in this case stands for Piss And Moan.  When I'm pissing and moaning about something, I call myself Pammy.

I Deserve Better

As I was laying on the couch tonight after dinner, after cleaning Daughter's plugged drain, after taking care of injured cat*, I scooped another mouthful of ice cream and thought "Screw the diet, I deserve this."

Later, I caught a glimpse of my naked self as I was climbing into the shower and thought "I don't deserve to look like this."  And I was right.  The ice cream was incredible, but as much as I loved the instant gratification of Cookies n Cream, I sure as hell don't love the lump I've turned into.

I deserve better than laying on the couch eating ice cream.

I deserve better than breathing like a freight train because I climbed a flight of stairs.

I deserve more than dreaming about the body I used to have.

And I definitely deserve more than letting my stories go unwritten while I gather dust in front of the boob tube.

But I'll never get any of the things I know I deserve if I don't work toward them.  I need to get off my lazy ass and exercise both my muscles and my brain.  Atrophied muscles and an atrophied mind are no way to go through life, son.

I can't promise this feeling will last.  Lord knows, I've kicked myself in the butt many times before only to wind up right back on that couch watching another rerun of Frasier or Friends or Grey's Anatomy.  For now, though, it's here and I'd better damn well make use of it**.

Because I deserve better.

What do you deserve?

*Max showed up with a mysterious shoulder injury a couple days ago and has been recuperating in style - complete with fresh roasted chicken chunks and plenty of babying.  He should be back to chasing the neighborhood toms tomorrow or the next day.

**And when I got out of the shower, I hand wrote another page of the fantasy.  It ain't much but I'm still finding my way with this.

Seven Years Ago Two Events Intertwined

Long about this time seven years ago, two things happened that changed my life.  1) I started my first novel, and 2) I found my husband.

I'm not sure either my novel or my marriage would've happened without the other.

In February of '04, I was already a couple weeks and a few thousand words into writing the book that would become Spectacle (aka Fear Itself), but this wasn't the first book I ever started.  At that point, it was probably headed for the same tragic end as the others.  Sure, I was writing almost every night after work - which is a helluva lot more committed than I'd been to any of the others - but I was also a single mom with a full time job.  I had the will to finish, just not the time and certainly not the confidence to squeeze an hour or two every day out of my busy schedule.

Enter one late post-Valentine's day night, sitting around feeling that hole in my life like a six year old prods the empty spot where her tooth used to be.  That night, I sat down at my computer and did a hard-target search.  My casual browsing previously had only yielded the incompatible, so I expanded my search outside the greater Salt Lake valley area.  I figured there had to be someone somewhere in the country who would be my Mr. Right. 

I found him in six-hundred-some miles away .  He replied to my tentative note and we were off to the races.  After numerous more emails, I sent him the first few chapters of my book and waited with nerves of Jell-o.  Once he read the snippet of unfinished, unedited story, he wrote me back.  I don't remember his exact words, but they were something along the lines of it would be a damn shame if I didn't write books for the rest of my life.

I was already falling in love with the man, but I think that sent me right over the edge.  It also gave me the confidence to continue to write this fledgling thing I would call my first book.  Not too awfully long after we were married and I moved out to CO, whereupon we had many discussions of whether I would work or I would write.  He won.  He told me my job was to write books. 

And I've been doing it ever since. 

So, you see, I don't think I would've ever finished that novel if he encouraged me.  And I don't think I would've gotten him to fall for me if it weren't for that novel.    

Sure, it's been a long seven years of writing, but it's also been a short seven years of loving this wonderful man.  Writing novels and spending forever with my husband - I wouldn't trade either for anything in the world.

=o)

Getting Things Done

The snowplow woke me up at 4am (okay, so I didn't roll out of bed until 4:20), so I figured this morning would be a good opportunity to talk about getting things done.  Especially since I'm finished with both my blogroll and my Facebook reading already and it's not even 6.

The other day I wrote a couple posts about being lost in a handful of kitty toys without a lifeguard.  I was drowning in a sea of things to do and not getting any of them accomplished.  Everyone was sympathetic and helpful and awesome in the comments.  (Thanks, Everyone.)  A few of people even commented about putting everything on a list and checking even the smallest things off to give myself a sense of accomplishment.  (Thanks Janet, Colene and Alleged.)  I took their advice.

As of yesterday, almost everything from that first list is crossed off - with the exception of my taxes which are almost done.  The biggest item was, of course, finishing UEQ.  It was the clot in my writerly artery.  (I know, eww gross, but the analogy works for me and it's less disgusting than the other analogy I can think of.)  Once I pushed through that, everything else seemed to flow. 

A few of the crossed off items are:

Finish UEQ
Update agent database
Research more agents and add them to database
Clean the toilets
Find and sort receipts for taxes
Enter receipts into spreadsheet
Work on taxes

The new list includes:

Finish taxes
Review DLN query
Send new batch of queries
Address Blink errors & decide whether it's still viable to query
Purge files
Clean the kitchen

So, if you're lost in a handful of kitty toys without a big hunk to pull you free, take a lesson from my blog pals and myself.  Make a list, cross it off, and feel great when you can wad that sucker up to throw away.

What do you feel good about accomplishing this week?

Need a Good Whoopin'?

Read Roxanne St. Claire's post over at Murder She Writes: What's Your Excuse?

I'm wrestling with myself - something I'll try and talk more about later - and I know that post felt like the ass-kicking I needed.  Now, I just need to pay attention to the whoopin' I took - for longer than a couple minutes, that is - quit making excuses, and get back on track.

How about you? 

Love My Widget

I'm so loving my new NaNo toy.  ---->

The green are days I succeeded, the yellow are days I tried, and the red are for those days when I didn't write a damn thing.  So far, only three red days.  The red rectangle has been staring at me all day... watching me... guilting me...

I may have said it before, but guilt is a powerful motivational tool for me.  Guilty red box stares at me until I write new words.  Of course, it's still not green, but yellow is way better than red.  Way way better.  (And it'll be green by the time I'm done with today.  Because yellow is guilt inducing, too.)

Does guilt motivate you?

(ETA:  And now it's green.  :GRIN:  Guilt be gone.  Or rather it would be gone if I wasn't still 1373 words behind.)