Naked and Bleeding

I ordered hardcopies for my beta friends around me that were curious how Mutants and Curse Me A Story had changed... at the same time, I ordered a copy of "Secrets of Stone and Skin" which is the gargoyle/OCD book. On Wednesday, all of the copies arrived and I left them with my friend Stephanie and, I suspect, she'll assume she can just pass them on to the other people that normally ask to beta for me. On the surface, it's a normal pattern and she probably assumes that I've got a thick skin for anything other than unfounded or harsh criticism. Actually, most non-writers probably assume something like that if they're asked to beta read.

I know that most writers compare their manuscripts to babies... and, in some ways, I can't disagree. On the other hand, I was reading "The Picture of Dorian Gray" a few months back and Oscar Wilde tackled the feeling I get when I'm passing on a manuscript to betas.

The artist that paints Dorian's picture says: "Every portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist, not of the sitter. The sitter is merely the accident, the occasion. It is not he who is revealed by the painter; it is rather the painter who, on the coloured canvas, reveals himself. The reason I will not exhibit this picture is that I am afraid that I have shown in it the secret of my own soul."

Later, Basil recants this and says, "I cannot help feeling that it is a mistake to think that the passion one feels in creation is ever really shown in the work one creates. Art is always more abstract than we fancy. Form and colour tell us of form and colour--that is all. It often seems to me that art conceals the artist far more completely than it ever reveals him."

In both instances, it describes exactly how I feel about this particular manuscript. On the one hand, I feel naked just that it exists... that I wrote it. On the other, it involves gargoyles, among other things, so I should be able to distance myself from it and say, "It's a story not an autobiography." Even if it didn't involve either gargoyles or OCD, though, the reality is that I'd feel obvious and naked. It's a weird paradox involved in being a writer. You pour your soul into things and want to share them, but it makes you feel so completely vulnerable.

On a less awkward vein, my Nano novel is coming along well. I've reached nearly 16K despite yesterday being rather a wash due to it being a school holiday and T being so completely manic and out of control.

I'm about one month off my OCD meds now, I think. Getting off the meds involves nearly as many side effects as being on them. One particularly nasty side effects is a pins and needles sensation in my limbs and them constantly "falling asleep" if I'm not moving every minute or so. Several dozen times a day I have to deal with that painful paralysis that comes with that. This side effect can last up to a year, but I don't expect to be off my meds that long. My memory has drastically improved and I feel more like "me" now that I've been writing again. I was worried that I wouldn't be able to write without being on meds.

Speaking of which... I should really get to that or cleaning.

Le sigh.

I hate cleaning.

NanoWrimo is Upon US! Run for it!

So, November is national novel writing month and loads of crazy writers attempt to slap 50K down on the screens by the end of it. I've gotten a slow start as I have some majorly sick kids home with me... and I'm just now getting over the cold that never ends. (5 weeks... 5 weeks of hell) Anyway... I've got a nasty headache today which could be from lack of sleep because B had a bad bout of hurling from 2 a.m. to 5 a.m. or it might be this stomach flu which started out with a headache. Either way, my nano showing this year is pathetic. I'm at 700 words thus far. Yesterday, I did a heavy amount of revising on "Secrets of Skin and Stone" in order to fix my six day school week issue... so I did add 5K onto that ms, but that doesn't count. Le sigh.

Here is what I'm doing this year. I think it started out as a joke... or a dare between Di and me. We'll see if I can pull it off. I'm glad I have the study guide for the Odyssey so I can go back and forth between my Kindle and laptop while writing this. It's a YA paranormal:

Synopsis: The Unseen Kingdom

A modern day retelling of the Odyssey with a paranormal slant.

Ten years previous, Marcus's father was lost through a doorway into the unseen kingdom, the Spirit World, and his mother, a high level medium, is plagued day and night by the spirits of the dead. Marcus can't take his father's place to protect his mother as there are few unseen stalkers as highly advanced as Rex Odysseus. Marcus sets out to find out what happened to his father. He's aided by Thena, a fellow high school student and the Principal's daughter. His father's rival, Anthony, is plotting his failure so that he can marry Marcus's mother, the fair Penelope.

The Unexpected

So, I'm officially off OCD meds now... I'm done tapering. It's been three years since I've had the full brunt of all my OCD symptoms. What surprises me the most is the complex loneliness.

With OCD comes a certain amount of detachment that I'd forgotten. Your brain justifies things... it has to... it's how you get from Point A (I'm a logical adult) to Point B (If I do this a certain number of times it'll make things better.) With OCD, a wall of detachment slides into place between your actions and your emotions. It's the only way you stay sane... or somewhat sane anyway. That detachment colors everything. At first, it's easy enough to say "I'm not that different from everyone else... it's just chemicals and I can hide it." Unfortunately, most people with OCD are above average in intelligence and they know that most people's minds to latch onto things like ours do. It's dark and it's creepy and we just can't let things go. In the past, that's made me feel like one of two things: either I'm dark and evil or I'm different. I've gone back and forth.

That's not entirely where the loneliness creeps in from... though it is hard to be constantly harassed by your own mind and know that few people around you will understand.

The other part is my kids. When I'm on my meds, it's easier to accept that having only autistic children isn't going to make for the happy motherhood experience I dreamed of when I was a girl. It's all I ever wanted.... I only ever wanted to be a mother. Having two children with complicated needs who will need me but never act like they love me... wasn't the anticipated dream. When I'm on meds, it seems less poignant.

Now that I'm off... I feel separate. My brain keeps trying to convince me to do things in order to ease the pressure of my OCD and I'm not letting it have control. The detachment is in place... in a family where detachment comes easier than emotions. Other than the husband, my life is all about being separate and detached.

He probably hasn't realized why I'm so emotionally needy right now... despite still having this nasty cough and the weird byproducts of my OCD.

It's... different.

B and I went to the Harry Potter Exhibition on Thursday. I'll try to post a few more comments tomorrow. It was awesome... but you can tell I'm in a bit of a mood right now.

The Last Battlefield

Somehow I'd managed to forget the nightmares that come with OCD reasserting its hold on your mind. Wow. Hitchcock and King have nothing on the depth of nightmares that a tortured mind can create. Part history and part demon. Then the familiarity of faces in the depths of hell. It's a special brand of horror individualized and meant to grip you long after you wake up. Plus, it seems twice as vile because with OCD comes insomnia so you feel like you begged to have your heart ripped out. It took me an hour at 4 a.m. to get to sleep.

I've had nightmares my whole life so you'd think you'd get used to it... but you don't.

My cold feels a bit lighter today. We'll see if the hours keep it that way.

Wendy

Splashing the Lamb's Blood About

I've never had this vile of a cold... that lasts forever. I've now had this stupid thing for over two weeks and my cough sounds as fresh as if it's that second miserable day of a sickness. I keep coughing so hard that I throw up and that stupid cracked rib that had finally healed feels as if it's re-cracked or is bruised.

Finally, on Tuesday, I gave into my husband's demands that I go to a doctor. I sound like I'm on my death bed in the throes of the plague, but apparently it's just an average, everyday, boring cold that is knocking tons of the city down.

So, here am I... still sick... still coughing... still wondering how this can possibly be just a cold. On the other hand, the visit to the doctor and this illness firmed up my opinion on something. I've been struggling to keep my dosages on my OCD meds appropriate for how much I'm eating... which has basically been nothing. I've never had a cold kill my appetite like this. I've dropped 15 lbs in two weeks due to a cold. It's completely frustrating. I've had to skip doses rather than "over-dose" on the meds. I'm tired of this exactness when it comes to medication. I'm sick of medication. I lasted longer this time than I have in the past. I think I'm at three years of meds. I'm not doing this anymore.

It's not just this though. The tediousness of getting dosages right at the right time is a piss-poor reason to quit taking medication.

It's the memory loss. This stupid "blow to the head" levels of memory loss isn't worth it. As I was at the doctor's, he was asking me questions that I couldn't answer. I wish I could describe to you how it feels to have each day swallowed up behind you in this hazy blackness so that you can't remember anything that isn't in your long term memory storage. I'm tired of sending myself emails to remind me of things or repeating things... or connecting things to numbers or stupid phrases. You shouldn't have to use little mnemonic devices to remember things as stupid as a single thought.

So... I'm just done for a bit. Chances are that it's a reprieve, but I need one. I'll be crabby and moody while I'm coming off and then it'll be a struggle to adjust to the full-on OCD experience again.

Having OCD is very much like having your worst enemy live in your head... I've been giving some thought to writing a novel about it... but it just seems like it might be too dark. I don't know. Maybe in a few weeks I'll give it some more thought.

Thanks for understanding. If you ever have any questions, as you can see, I'm completely honest about my OCD. I hid it for twenty-eight years until B was diagnosed, and then I decided to throw it out into the light of day and quit behaving as if it was a dirty secret. It's genetics and hormones and chemicals and that's all it is. Well... perhaps it's also fate or divine intervention... but it's still not dark and dirty. I don't regret my past suppression of it, but I won't let my daughter grow up believing that she is evil or dark.

Chemicals and genetics.

Yeah. Good times.

Reject you must I

The self rejection does make it easier, but it truly doesn't completely take away the sting... especially since I had hoped... never mind... it doesn't matter.

As you've seen in the past, I decided to take the edge off snailmail rejections by including my own rejection letter to myself. The Yoda one just came back. (It was for Curse Me A Story which I've just finished thoroughly revising.)

Here is the self-rejection I included with a full request's SASE:

Young Novel Writer,

The words are strong with you but another rejection must I write. Many rejections will you see before the force of your novel will be discovered. Discouragement you must face. Write you must. Realize the power of the dark side must not overcome your spirit, young novel writer. Fear is the path to the dark side… fear and overuse of adverbs. Great things I sense in you. Triumph you will. If not, there is another novel writer, but busy they are. Rely on you, we must.

Try again you must. No! There is no try. Do or do not. There is no try.

Apologize I must that this manuscript is not accepted. Reflects on you it does not. Writing does not matter. Judge me by my writing, do you? Hmm? And well you should not. Like to write sentences in strange order do I.

Sad I am that I must reject you. Always remember the novel will be with you and some day with another agent.

May the words be with you,

Yoda on behalf of:

This porridge is just right

So, I finished the revision of Curse Me A Story to make it a YA book. It's now with betas who hopefully think, as I do, that's it's now complete at 72, 500. It felt more like a simple outline when I was trying to make it into a MG. Now, it seems much better. I like it a lot. After they're done with it, I'll send it back to the agent with fingers crossed.

I still haven't sent Versus the Bounty... and I'm just not sure what to do with that one. The husband is beta-ing it... sort of. He's been really busy and I snarled at him one night over a valid point he had... so I think he isn't as motivated. Plus, he just broke his ereader, so he might even be done. I might print it out on Lulu and ask my friend to beta it for me.

I've been rereading the Honor books with a plan to do a serious revision. I opened Honor One only to discover that I'd done a serious revision in January... and it didn't take much this time around. I'd totally forgotten that I'd done such an intense revision. (Having a poor memory keeps things interesting.) So, I just finished the revision and I think I'll throw it at some betas for some ideas on whether certain scenes need to be cut and how the pacing is. I'll probably move on to a revision of Honor Two while I'm waiting on betas for these other projects. I should be working on a WIP but I like being in Honor's head.

The last few weeks have been really rough on me. The kids are... complicated right now. We have a lot of financial stress. Then, there is the insomnia. Thus far, in September, I've slept more than four hours during a night about... five times... maybe. The weeks are building and building and pulling me down. September, October, April, and May all nail me due to the season change and the stress of school starting or ending. So, my normal insomnia patterns of one week of insomnia followed by a recovery week... go to two or three weeks of insomnia with a two or three day break. Napping causes worse insomnia... and, unfortunately, I have to be up at 7 a.m. every morning... even if I don't get to bed until 5 a.m. Today, I'm sick too... I've picked up a vile cold. My throat hurts so bad. I'm going to overdose on Nyquil tonight. (By overdose... I mean... take the maximum dosage.)

Well, this is a rather lame blog post, but my head feels a bit foggy from being sick and lack of sleep.

Have a good... what day is this... oh... Tuesday. Have a good Tuesday!