Sometimes--writing is hard and ugly and stinky

I know... it's not really a brilliant title, but it's true.

Slogging through this writing game isn't always fun--especially not if you want to get published. There are days that writing and your home life can't co-exist peacefully. I'm there. T is not doing well. Every step forward leads to twenty steps backward. I don't know what to do.

Add to that, this new WIP is not a cheery, light-hearted one. I think it's good, but it's hard. The words don't jump into my head. They seem to be stumbling around in there keeping me awake.

My husband just told me that he'll probably be gone all next week on business trips.

I've got a ton on my plate. I feel burnt out. If I'm not around for a bit... that's why. I want to write, so I can escape my reality, but writing might not be enough to keep me sane.

T is just so angry right now. Everything sets him off.

Anyway... so, I guess the gist of this post is: I've started a new WIP. It's cool, but hard. T is a wreck. I'll be a wreck next week. Heaven help me survive. Le sigh.

Oh... next weekend is my annual "just the girls" Disneyland trip. No kids for four days. Four days. Four days. Such pretty words.

Motivating Factors--Warning Deep Waters

This post is not light-hearted or amusing. You've been warned.

Some days, I stray into deep areas of thought and get swamped there. I don't know if it's the nature of OCD, the soul of a writer, or just my spiritual side creeping out, but I woke up with a feeling of intensity and grim anticipation. It's entirely possible that my bad memory is giving me this weird feeling of unreality because I can't remember nearly anything from yesterday. (OCD meds kill my memory and I'd only had two hours of sleep yesterday.)

Anyway, so this morning, I started off with prayer. I'd like to say as a devout Mormon I pray every day and all day, but I've been a spiritual slacker lately. The feeling of depression and disassociation had me attempting to refill my spiritual needs. Why? Usually when I get the feeling that I woke up with... something exceptionally bad happens that day. So, after I was praying, I was thinking about how much I do each day based on three motivating factors:

Superstition: I'd love to say I'm not superstitious. The reality is that anyone who thinks things are lucky... is superstitious. In the writing industry, I find myself thinking, "With any luck, my query will land on their desk at the right time." Luck. Luck. Luck. I've read books recently that absolutely stunk. How were they published? My mind answers: The author was lucky. No matter how much I try to find the Hand of God in all things... I'm forced to admit that in my mind there is still a strong belief in luck. Also, I believe in unlucky things to a small degree. I knock on wood, don't walk under ladders, and don't say stuff out loud for fear of "jinxing" it. I'd be surprised if most artisans don't believe in luck on some level of their psyche. The creative mind needs avenues of existence that seem open to good fortune. A small optimist inside of us says "maybe" to possibilities that are rational mind won't admit to.

Tradition: I have a strong family, and I don't mean the kids and my husband (though I'm not discounting them.) From the family I grew up in come traditions. Some are the accepted strictures of morality that are easier to call tradition or accepted rules. Some are just things I do and ways I do them because I have always done them that way. There are small things. Last night, I had a grilled cheese sandwich with tomato soup. I always have tomato soup when I have grilled cheese sandwiches. I won't eat grilled cheese sandwiches with it. There are big things. I am far too over-weight to be happy. My mom was obsessed with her own weight. I remember 138 lbs being significant because if she weighed more than that... she was disgusted. My mom has NEVER brought up my weight. She's never mentioned I weigh too much. In my mind, this correlation has formed based on the way I was raised to believe. A million therapists, talk-show hosts, books can try to tell me differently, but in my mind my weight can equal happiness. (Also, food equals happiness, so it's a vicious cycle really.)

Religion: Not everyone practices their religion to its full extent and not every religion is as all-encompassing as Mormonism. My religion and faith in it seep into every portion of my life. There is not any significant decision I make that isn't influenced by religion. However, religion is a touchy subject and not one I really need to illustrate how it affects me.

My feeling of desperate gloom this morning might be because of so many variables both real and imagined. My response was affected by fewer factors.

So, as I finished praying this morning, I considered what factors had brought me to my knees. First, my religion has taught me that God is a concerned Father who can help me. My faith in my religion has led to believe that all things are possible if it's His will. Second, traditionally, I know that if anything does happen... my mom can be counted on to ask, "Did you pray about it?" Traditionally, praying has brought me peace of mind. In the traditions of my family, my experience, and my religion... it was the right course of action. With some embarrassment, I'll admit, superstition played a role too. I've had that feeling of gloom in the past on days where something has gone wrong. My superstitious mind thinks, "Maybe nothing will happen, but maybe it will... you might as well cover your bases, Wendy." (Yes, using the phrase "cover your bases" in relation to prayer is very tacky. My soul is tack and that's what it said.)

I'm not sure why I wanted to write about this, but I did. I started a new WIP yesterday. I'm excited by the idea of it, but it's terrifying to me. It's not light-hearted or funny. It's not a fantasy. There are no vampires, ghosts, or gargoyles. There is a main character... at odds with herself. The conflict is internal... no one will die or be in danger of death. It's very, very different from what I normally write. It's turning out to be very, very difficult to write and not the escape that writing normally is for me.

So, that's where I am today. The kids are back in school after Spring Break. T is very moody today, but he went to school. B is similarly moody. Perhaps they're feeding off my frustrated energy, but I'm not sure. I need to do laundry and clean. Next weekend is my yearly "girl's time out" trip to Disneyland. It's coming on fast.

Have a good Tuesday, everyone.

Sometimes--frogs MUST be kissed

Trust me. I know. Just boil your lips after....

LOL. This is one of my unfinished paintings that I nearly stepped on when I was searching for something in my room. A Twitter friend posted an amazing Jack Be Nimble story after a very strange Twitter conversation I had. (All odd posts were mine--not that you wondered.)

Anyway... yeah... that's a painting.

Blogfest--Murder Scene

You guys know how much I love blogfests. :)

Anne Riley is hosting the Murder Scene Blogfest.

This is from book "Re:Straint" and it's one of the sections from the point of view of Lydia who is the MC, Lucas's, mother. She's an assassin and a sociopath. She is also dying of brain disease and hallucinating from it. (At the end, Lucas's father's 'ghost' will appear.) She leads a group of assassins and found out they were planning on killing her son because they knew she was dying, so she poisoned all of them. Lydia was completely amoral... and yet... I totally liked her. She was so evil that she was fun. Anyway:


The pounding on the front door had to cease. It was Tuesday, and I knew Lucas was out with his little girlfriend. Besides, he wouldn’t be knocking on the door. There was no reason. Just as I approached the front door, one of my planters sailed through the window and skidded across the entry hall.

“Lydia!” Travis bellowed from outside.

I should have expected this. The walls swayed and wobbled as I grabbed the front door’s handle, yanking it open. My vision had been… interesting today.

Travis was leaning against one of the marble columns on my porch. He looked like hell. I was surprised he’d been able to throw the planter. “You!” he hissed, pointing at me. “Dead. They’re all dead. Damn you.”

“We’re all damned, Travis. I just arranged for a quicker trip for some of us,” I said, leaning against the other pillar. “I found some interesting correspondence in your house, Cousin.”

He laughed. “That bastard wasn’t bluffing about that either. Well, I’ve got enough life in me for one last act, Lydia. I’m going to kill you and then your son. Maybe I’ll get to his little friend too.”

I rolled my eyes. Travis was stupid. They really would have replaced me with him? That had been my primary reason for killing all of them. Seriously… who told someone they were planning on killing them before doing it? Stupid. I pushed off the pillar. The other reason he’d never have adequately replaced me was that he was slow to act. I’d broken his neck with a well-placed high-heel to his neck before he’d even considered I was capable of it.

Sitting down on my front steps, I contemplated the body of the last of the violent Virulents. I was still alive, but only a shell… a ghost. Speaking of which, I saw Charles to the side of me.

“There!” I said, gesturing at Travis. “Happy?”

Charles frowned at his body and shrugged. It was the closest to forgiveness that he’d given me.

“No, of course you’re not. Lucas is just like you in that. Do you know that he intends to go to every one of their funerals? I’ve been hoping we’ll just toss them in a ditch and be done with it,” I complained. “Or throw them in the ocean. Set them on fire.” After remembering that Travis was MEANT to be my replacement, I added, “Feed them to zoo animals. Seriously, have they no respect for my true sheer villainy? Yeah, well, I’m laughing last.” Well, that was an odd twist of fate, wasn’t it? I shouted, “Did you hear that? I’m laughing last!”

Charles raised his eyebrows. That was so like him.

The End... Beautiful Friend

Hey... so I finished that book... the one I started two weeks ago... yeah, that one. It ended at 61K. I haven't done a revision, so that'll change, but I wrote out the last chapter. So, I can sleep again. It's all out of my head.

I don't know many other obsessive writers. I'm curious if there are many out there. Whenever I finish a book, people are generally shocked. I don't know what it means that I can write so fast... in some ways, I get a little ashamed of it. I'm sure a good portion of the people that read this will assume that anything written that fast must suck. Meh... maybe it does. I just know the story is out of my head... and on paper, so I can sleep again. Thank goodness. Last night, I was crashing so hard trying to get it out of my head because my body wanted to sleep, but my mind wouldn't shut up.

It's not pretty. If you're jealous of how fast I write... stop. Seriously. It's a part of this sickness that is OCD. I can't sleep. I can't think. I can't live outside of OCD sometimes. My mind is never quiet. I can't even imagine what it must be like to have any silence in there. It's better with the meds, but it's still never quiet.

Anyway... so it's done. I'll work on the rewrite and we'll see how long the mind let's me rest before it's on to the next book or project.

The Sticky Wicket of Picky

So, there are a few books I'd like to get but I'm also sick of getting YA books that I can't pass on to my teenage beta reader. Can someone give me the lowdown on the following books in these three categories:

1. I can't pass on books that have serious swearing in them (The F word even once, and the more serious swears frequently.)

2. Sex... graphic in any way, but I'd rather not have any at all.

3. Underage drinking or any drug use promoted or accepted.

Okay, like I said, I want to pass these books on to my fourteen year old beta reader (who reads voraciously) but out of respect for her mother's rules... and admittedly these are my preferences anyway... I just want to know if I should buy these books. Some of them, I know are safe, but I'm curious about opinions anyway. So, yeah, read these?

1. I Kissed a Zombie and I Liked it

2. Fallen

3. The Forest Of Hands and Teeth

4. The Dark Divine

5. Hex Hall

6. Leviathan

7. Beautiful Creatures

8. The Body Finder

9. Graceling

10. Jessica's Guide to Dating on the Dark Side

I've been wanting a few of these for a while now. Leviathan's book trailer was wicked awesome. So.... anyone?

Springing back in

It's spring break for the kids. I've been trying to do therapy every day with T, so we've been busy. I also started another WIP a week and a half ago while cutting back on my OCD meds that stop certain obsessive activities. Since obsessive writing was one of the things that it was stopping, my brain is obsessed with this current WIP. I'm trying to find the right amount of obsession to go with keeping up with T and coping with the stress that comes with kids with needs. I like the rush of obsessive writing. It's frustrating to deal with aspects of my personality that are entwined with OCD to the point that medicating them makes me feel wrong.

Anyway, so... I'm trying to figure out a balance in everything, but that balance may need to wait until after I finish this WIP and the kids are back in school again.

Good Wednesday to everyone!!!