Happy New Year! I haven't blogged because over the holidays I'm either the happy hostess or at QVC. This year, I managed to have two parties at home, while on QVC. I missed my own fun!
The week after Christmas, I am always, and I mean always, sick. But I'm recovered and I've been writing my novel. I may finish it yet. Dare I give myself a deadline? Hmm. Why not? Let's say February 25th. You all hold me to it.
My resolution is to be more productive. So far, so good. I dusted off the treadmill, queries are flying out, pages are being filled and I'm trying so hard not to give in to time suckers. I'm even trying out this thing called sleep. I find it helps me get more done while I am awake.
I will have to forgo my new friend REM tonight, though. I'll be on air overnight and home just in time to get my day started. Only sweet day dreams for me.
Showing posts with label novel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label novel. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Monday, November 10, 2008
Curse of the Dead Deer
Ever since the accident, I've been under the curse of the dead deer. It's some seriously bad mojo. First, I find out someone used my identity to open a cell phone account. It showed up on my credit report as a big negative. (Note to readers: check your credit often.) I filed a police report and have completed a small forest of paperwork.
Next, my hard drive dies. No worries, though. I back up twice a day, everyday. I check it and all my folders are there. There’s just one problem. My backup utility was corrupted from the get go and all those folders are empty. Everyday for years, I backed up a whole lot of nothing. It was then I realized I have no hard copies of my novel, scripts and all my other writing. I had just purged all the paper and intended on printing out copies of the latest versions. All the digital photos and music I’d never taken the time to copy to disc were lost.
I stood in the service area of Mac Outfitters three days in a row begging for heroic measures. My computer flat lined and they said there were no signs of life. After “there’s one last thing we can try,” Saint Andrew of Apple managed to salvage the bulk of my data. God bless him. I would have given him a kidney or my firstborn, but he settled for tears of gratitude and a small fee. (Note to self and readers: Back up seven ways to Sunday NOW. This blog will be here when you get back.) BTW, If you don’t hear from me, it’s because I lost your contact information. Please email!
So, it should be over, right? No, it’s a terrible trifecta! I wake up in the middle of the night to find that every stress-related illness I’ve ever endured has overtaken me. I’ll spare you the gory details, but the Hunchback of Notre Dame wouldn’t be seen with me right now.
According to the psychic, I should surround my car with white light to undo the bad "car"ma. How does one do that? Do I go to the Mall at night and park between two lampposts? Hmm.
Next, my hard drive dies. No worries, though. I back up twice a day, everyday. I check it and all my folders are there. There’s just one problem. My backup utility was corrupted from the get go and all those folders are empty. Everyday for years, I backed up a whole lot of nothing. It was then I realized I have no hard copies of my novel, scripts and all my other writing. I had just purged all the paper and intended on printing out copies of the latest versions. All the digital photos and music I’d never taken the time to copy to disc were lost.
I stood in the service area of Mac Outfitters three days in a row begging for heroic measures. My computer flat lined and they said there were no signs of life. After “there’s one last thing we can try,” Saint Andrew of Apple managed to salvage the bulk of my data. God bless him. I would have given him a kidney or my firstborn, but he settled for tears of gratitude and a small fee. (Note to self and readers: Back up seven ways to Sunday NOW. This blog will be here when you get back.) BTW, If you don’t hear from me, it’s because I lost your contact information. Please email!
So, it should be over, right? No, it’s a terrible trifecta! I wake up in the middle of the night to find that every stress-related illness I’ve ever endured has overtaken me. I’ll spare you the gory details, but the Hunchback of Notre Dame wouldn’t be seen with me right now.
According to the psychic, I should surround my car with white light to undo the bad "car"ma. How does one do that? Do I go to the Mall at night and park between two lampposts? Hmm.
Friday, February 22, 2008
MIA
I’ve been missing in action and hitting the pages. Yes those empty pages of my novel that had been patiently waiting since last spring. I understand why writers write every day. One skipped day becomes two, then three, then months. Next thing you know, you’re not a novel writer anymore.
My Christmas gift to myself was to buy a ticket back on the wagon. I joined a novel writing group through Writer’s Digest and 10,000 words are due every three weeks. I needed the self-imposed deadline. Also, we are required to critique each other’s work. The quality and diversity of the other work is humbling and inspiring. It’s just what I needed. I’m enjoying myself more than I have in a long, long time.
Why do writers sometimes avoid what we love to do? Is it fear or laziness? I’m not sure. It’s hard work but nothing, other than parenting, is more rewarding to me. Actually, it’s like parenting - the pregnancy and giving birth bit. I’ll let you know when the novel is born.
My Christmas gift to myself was to buy a ticket back on the wagon. I joined a novel writing group through Writer’s Digest and 10,000 words are due every three weeks. I needed the self-imposed deadline. Also, we are required to critique each other’s work. The quality and diversity of the other work is humbling and inspiring. It’s just what I needed. I’m enjoying myself more than I have in a long, long time.
Why do writers sometimes avoid what we love to do? Is it fear or laziness? I’m not sure. It’s hard work but nothing, other than parenting, is more rewarding to me. Actually, it’s like parenting - the pregnancy and giving birth bit. I’ll let you know when the novel is born.
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