Where Ladybugs Roar

Confessions and Passions of a Compulsive Writer

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Them days--they move.

Wow. I have so much to get done before my kids get out of school for winter break--and they only have seven days left of school. Yikes. Super yikes!

So, Honor Among Thieves--there is no way I'll get to much of the revisions needed before the holidays. Ugh. I'm going to get thrown in with the January New Year's resolution crowd.

On Honor Six--I finished but my sister, Heidi, wants me to add action into the first 30 pages. (The muse says no. She says she is done with Honor Six. The muse has spoken.)

On Honor Seven-- Why? Why must new ideas swamp my brain so soon after old ideas have left? It's a cruel sort of victory of obsession over control. It happens every time. I keep thinking that I'll be able to catch up on my life--but no.

Chosen Changeling-- The one my sister wants me to finish next. This would be a stand-alone book on the currently popular subject of fairies. The muse is completely silent. NOTHING. I got nothing. I read through what I had--thinking that I'd be able to jump back into it. Nothing.

I didn't try my Dystopian because Honor Seven plot started swamping me.

The muse is cruel and twisted and just soooo wrong. Wrong, I tell you! Wrong!

Yes, it's a beautiful and wonderful gift to be able to write so fast. Yes, it's an awful curse to be able to write so fast that there are always new things that skip into my mind and demand my attention if I want to get any sleep--ever.

This Friday is the husband and my anniversary. I'm hoping to have the house clean for our anniversary. Yes, it's sad that this is so significant and would be an actual "gift" to him. Sickness and writing have taken precedence. The muse is cruel to the husband also. My sister suggested he take the day off and we sit around naked and watch movies. I must be old and married because that just sounded breezy and uncomfortable instead of sexy. Plus, having naked butts on the sofa--weirdness--lots of weirdness. Nakedness is less exciting than it's made out to be in my opinion. Skin gets all uncomfortable pressed up against other skin. It's like sitting on vinyl in a short skirt in summer. I firmly believe if the Garden of Eden hadn't been perfect weather--Adam and Eve would have discovered clothing long before Lucifer came along.

Okay. That's possibly too much information.

Anyway, so I've got to get busy cleaning. So, unplugged may continue.

I did have to say something super special happened today. It was the cutest thing ever.

B has Classic Autism (this isn't the cute part) and when she was diagnosed six years ago, I asked the doctor if she'd ever get married and have a family. He was silent for a moment before he said, "If she does, she might marry another Autistic person. I have high hopes that she might be able to hold down a job some day." The world crashed down on us during that appointment. B has exceeded the expectations of most everyone. Today, I dropped her off at her school and got out to go walk the kids to the crosswalk. This boy from her class comes running over, shouting her name. He walked beside her and waited at the crosswalk when she got a little behind--all while talking to her and saying her name over and over and trying to make eye contact to get her attention on him. He was walking close enough to bump shoulders with her and his focus was all on her. At eight years old, B is into the segregation of sexes phase of schooling due to cooties--the exception being, of course, when a boy likes a girl. B has a boyfriend--only she has no idea--which made it cuter. She tends not to notice things like that--at all. The more she seemed oblivious--the harder he tried to get her to smile at him. I couldn't stop smiling after that. How full of sweet is that? It was adorable.

Okay, well, I might sneak in a few minutes of writing before tackling my house. Ugh. Blech. Yuck. I hate cleaning. I'd rather have dental surgery than clean. Seriously. At least, then, they give you the good drugs to make it go by faster.

Le sigh.

Have a good Wednesday everyone!



  1. Yes, I agree. Naked is weird. And a big awwww on the little boyfriend...that's so cute. Cleaning sucks rocks...unless someone else is doing it. I totally need to get a live-in housekeeper. Congrats on the anniversary. Enjoy yourselves, clothing is optional, I guess.

  2. Very cute story about B. And naked butt on couch is a dangerous combo, particularly if leather (couch, not butt :)

  3. I died laughing when you said you're giving your husband a clean house for your anniversary because I can SO RELATE. I gave my husband a clean, all-his-own closet last year and this year a clean-organized house when he came back from a long trip. He thanked me over and over for both. Sad. I'm trying to do better.

  4. HAHA! Naked butts on couch = big no-no. Happy anniversary to you and your husband, plus or minus clothing! I really liked the boyfriend story. There's nothing like not noticing a boy to make him like the girl even more.

  5. Aww that story was so cute! I honestly think that made my day--and its a study day... so GOOD ON YA! ;)

    Btw, in the "naked" paragraph as I'm going to dubb it, I read it as you, your husband AND your sister on the couch and I got a little disturbed. I had to read it over, LMAO!

  6. Nakedness has lost it's appeal for me. Our sofas aren't leather, they're regular old cloth, and that seems hard to clean. Plus I would keep thinking, "What if there's an emergency and we have to run out of the house?"

    I love the boyfriend story :) All your work for B has paid off. The part about cooties made me giggle. My daughter is the same age and has similar inclinations.

    There aren't enough words to describe my hatred of housework. If I had a nemesis, he would be emptying toy bins onto the living room floor, piling laundry everywhere, and shaking dust all over the place, right before my husband came home. "I swear it was my nemesis! Curse you nemesis!"

  7. I asked B who the boy was when she got home. This just goes to show you how socially oblivious she is. She looked at me like I was crazy. I described him, and she still had no idea other than "a boy in my class." We've narrowed it down to two boys from my description. Poor boy--his heart is practically pre-broken. B is a really beautiful little girl. She always has been, and this strange mysterious "I'm not going to make eye contact or acknowledge you" business has always attracted boys since pre-school. I tell you, though--she is going to break some hearts. After she's twenty-one and allowed to have boyfriends ;) I might just jump in and explain to her dates that they'll just have to be blunt about their feelings if they want her attention. On the bright side, B won't play all the silly girly "games."