My Annual Self-Flagellation Week, AKA Purgatory

It's been a really long time since I posted anything here. I won't blah blah you to death with how busy I've been or anything stupid like that. Really, it comes down to the fact I didn't really have anything to say. No point in talking just to hear the sound of my own voice. Or in this case, to hear the sound of my own typing.

I have been posting more on Tumblr recently, though. I find the format there fits the silly snippets and pictures of my life a little more readily than a formal blog does. So for now, 99% of my postings will either be on Tumblr or Twitter. Check that out if you are on either site. I'm in and out, but I show up both places at least a few times a day.

But, the actual point of this post, is that I won't be anywhere online for most of the next week. It's my ANNUAL TRIP TO PURGATORY. *cue ominous music*

Too bad I won't actually have an angel to help me get through it. Nope. Surviving this is all on me.

What's going on? I get to spend a week helping to run a camp. I'm the kayak instructor, and general dogsbody. I'm awake before dawn, preparing for the onslaught of 200 girls aged 5 through 18, and then the day begins. Eight hours of camp activities (which boils down to eight hours of paddling for me), then another eight hours of managing the older girls' free time, followed by another four to six hours of preparing for the next day, I get between 2 and 4 hours of sleep a night. If I'm lucky. Between the intensely physical, constant activity and the complete lack of personal space or quiet, I think I'd rather be in actual purgatory for a week. And I do this 100% as a volunteer. Have done for years.

WHY?! you might ask? I love it. It IS purgatory for me. It's pure. It's a test. It pushes me to the edge of sanity, and I get to see if I can stay on this side of the line, or if I'll be dragged across into psychosis. It's the ultimate extreme sport, playing fast and loose with my own brain. Because, really, it's not that far a walk from "normal" me to "OMG SOMETHING IS FUCKING WRONG WITH YOU" me.

Last year I came about five minutes from breaking before a friend pointed out my weird behavior and sent me on a solitary hike until I could rein in the crazy. I chose the "difficult" trail up to Cunningham Falls, climbed the falls, and perched in a nook in the forest and just sat there for a few hours. I held on. I won. Victory over insanity.

Why would I put myself through that again? Because I have to. I have to prove to myself I am not the victim. I have to prove I am strong, both physically and mentally. I CAN DO THIS.

And nothing makes me feel stronger.

So wish me luck. I'll be back soon. I have a lot of editing to do, and that alone is keeping me from flipping out. At least the camp has power, if not internet. My work shall keep me sane.

Edit-Ing

There are several metric crap-tons of editing advice online. I've spent a LOT of time reading it, but every time I make another pass over one of my manuscripts, I seem to forget everything I've ever known about English and the rules of grammar. *please note that this post is strictly about sentence construction and grammar, and not editing for plot or character or voice or anything else* Luckily for me, I usually reach a point (today it happened on page 243) when the lights come back on and I can see all the WTF-ery for what it is. At that moment, I have two choices.

I could always go right back to the beginning with my newly-remembered knowledge and fix all the offending passages, or keep slogging along until I reach the end. I could save the fixes for the next pass. I need to make another pass anyway, even if only to write the synopsis. *that sentence makes perfect sense if you know how I write synopsises. Synopsize? Synoptopodes? Whatever.*

Today I chose to keep going. It's only Editing Round One. I like to look at it as Drafting Round Two. One common bit of drafting advice I've seen is to just keep writing. No matter what problems you think you've run in to, keep churning out words. Everything can be fixed later, as long as all the words are there on paper (or on the computer) to fix.

If I'm in Drafting Round Two, I'm still swinging. I'll keep punching my way to the end, and live to fight again tomorrow.

I'm keeping a list of issues I need to check when I start Round Three. Here's a sampler of problems I need to evaluate. These might have you nodding along, or might inspire pointing and laughing. Everyone has their own writing demons that plague them. These are some of mine. Yours are probably completely different.

Some people are befuddled by commas. Others have a sentence structure they love, and cling to it like little word monkeys. We all have pet words we use over and over again, because we can't help ourselves. This last one is a giant thumbtack in my patootie.

I use some words over and over again, but they're completely unnecessary, and often irritating. Just (200 times in 305 pages). That (already hacked out a few hundred of them). Simply (surprisingly curtailed in this draft at only 30 uses).

I use the "find" feature in Word and search for words I know I use too often. You can even search for word fragments, such as "ing." I nearly fell down dead when I ran that search this morning, before I remembered SOME WORDS HAVE "ING" IN THEM BUT AREN'T BAD VERBS.

Almost every post on general editing warns against using too many -ing verbs. They can turn your writing passive faster than a chipmunk stuffing nuts into its little cheeks. See? Just like that. (there's the evil JUST again, too!). Sometimes, the verb ending in ING is the absolutely correct choice to make. Other times, the "ing" the search tool finds isn't a passive verb at all. Like "morning," "evening," "sing," "sting," "fling," "spring," etc.

When I saw there were nearly 3,000 instances of "ing" in this MS, I wanted to cry. I pride myself on my passive-voice avoidance radar. My CP's know laser beams shoot out of my eyes when I find it. *pew pew pew*

I started subtracting all the *okay* uses of "ing" from the total, and started to feel better immediately. It turns out I used "morning" 22 times. After that, I couldn't stop myself. I do love a good statistic. Without much effort, I found more than 2000 perfectly acceptable uses of "ing." 500 of them were variants of "thing," such as "something," "anything," "nothing," etc. I'm sure there are other words I could deduct from the grand total, but I'd proved my point and picking out the rest of the individual offenders seemed silly.

My morning panic was essentially for naught. It was a good splash of cold water to the face, and I am keeping a closer eye on repeated words now, but I still guarantee my CP's will have their slapping-fish at the ready to hit me in the face with all the WTF-ery I overlooked.

I'll make at least one more pass before I subject anyone else to this story. I know I said this was the first round of edits, but in reality it's probably the third or fourth. Remember that drafting gem from the top of this post? The one that said to JUST KEEP WRITING, don't stop to edit until the draft is done? Yeah. I don't pay much attention to that little rule, either. It's excellent advice, but at the end of the day, nothing I wrote would be sensible or coherent if I didn't go back and reread what I wrote from day to day.

That being said, you probably shouldn't heed any writing advice from me, either. :)

Landing

For the last few weeks, I've technically been on self-imposed vacation. I didn't go anywhere, the rest of our lives kept right on going as usual, but I forced myself to stay away from writing and editing. With excellent reason!

Since the beginning of the year, I've essentially written two first drafts, one was originally planned as the third novel in this series, and the second is the NEW first novel. A prequel. This will eventually make that first draft I wrote the new book 6 in the series, whenever I finally get back around to working on it again. Lots of other stuff to do first, including drafting the new books 2 and 3, but at least the general idea is out on paper.

Writing that new prequel really took it out of me in ways I never expected. Since the next draft up in the queue is going to be an even bigger emotional wringer, and the one after that will be a "pit of despair" type affair for my characters, I knew I couldn't edit that first draft until I got myself into the appropriate frame of mind. Hence, the vacation.

What did I do to take my mind of all my own writing? The original goal was to read, read, and read some more. What actually happened? I watched the first five seasons of Supernatural and refinished my deck. The deck refinishing left me with a pinched nerve in my shoulder, which got better after a few days of rest. Watching five seasons of Supernatural in two and a half weeks? That sort of messed with my mind a little bit more.

Really, I love this show. For a lot of reasons. First of all, their depiction of some mythological creatures gave me a little more confidence in the way I warped some mythology for my own writing. It's always good to remember that fantasy is flexible. Like, octopus-level flexible.

Unsurprisingly, cramming more than a hundred episodes of a show has affected me in a few other ways. I present, for your entertainment, the several biggest ways Supernatural has warped my gelatinous thinker. ***If you haven't seen Supernatural, I advise watching it immediately. Some of what's written below might be considered "spoilery." If you don't want to get spoiled for an 8 year old tv show, you might want to skip down below the next gif. You've been warned.***

First of all, the song Carry On My Wayward Son now inspires a feeling of indescribable dread and feels.

The sound of insects buzzing inspires a similar sense of dread. How lucky that I live in a forest. Just going outside is a traumatic experience now.

Other innocuous nighttime noises make me reach for the salt shaker. THE FLOOR CREAKED. QUICK. SALT THE WINDOWSILLS AND GRAB THE IRON FIREPLACE POKER.

My vocabulary has expanded. I now say "bitch" way too often. Also, "assbutt." And "ganked." I will do my best to keep this out of my writing, but it's going to be hard. Revising the entire series will probably result in adding a lot more swearing. Not necessarily a bad thing.

So, that's where my brain is. At the end of Season Five. The Winchesters' world has officially fallen apart.

***end spoilery section***

I am now so far from the mindset I need to edit, I think I just need to cut myself off from the world for a week and do nothing else but edit. I've been sucked into an alternate reality, and need to find my way back to my OWN alternate reality. :)

Now, one of you nice people come over here and close the Netflix window so I don't jump right back into season six. I keep closing it, but it keeps opening back up. I THINK IT'S A GHOST. POSSIBLY A DEMON. *flings holy water at computer* *black smoke issues forth* YES. IT WAS OBVIOUSLY A DEMON.

So there you are. The state of my so-called life.

What I need now is a kick in the pants. I have three more seasons of Supernatural (only two of which are currently on Netflix). I'm holding them in reserve for when I finish this edit. As of this moment, I'm officially off vacation and back to reality. I guess I just needed to get this all out in writing. Now that I have, the desire to write is once again strong.

TO THE EDITMOBILE!

Editing Lessons

***First of all, since I started writing this post this morning, several other folks have posted SUPREMELY USEFUL treatises on editing. I would like to direct your attention to those posts immediately. These contain IMPORTANT THINGS we should all be doing with our own writing, prior to sending it to CP's, beta readers, and definitely before querying agents or publishers. These are the basics, folks. I hang my head in shame that I've neglected this stuff in the past. But we all learn eventually. We make mistakes before we get it right.



I only hope that I FINALLY got it right ENOUGH. That's all I ask.

So, please check out these posts that may be RELEVANT TO YOUR INTERESTS:

By Melinda Dozier, six useful tips for more effective editing.

By Simon P. Clark, about the three distinct types of editing we should all take advantage of before any other eyes are allowed to see our precious word babies. In fact, I'm considering making it required reading for anyone who wants me to CP or beta for them in the future.

You have read and assimilated all that beautiful advice, right? Okay then. Now on to the rest of my story.

Since I finished the draft for Black Sheep last week, I've been going back and doing ALL THE EDITING. ALL OF IT. Not only on my own manuscripts, but on all the betas and CP's I had piling up. I am slowly making my way through it all. Promise.

When I'm in Writing Mode, I tend to spew forth wordgarble, and only worry about converting it into Legible English during editing. Sometimes the wordgarble turns out just fine, but most of the time it's filled with the kinds of things that give me the sorts of shivers that accompany finding slugs in one's slippers.

But I digress.

I am now editing. Again. I finished the three hundred and sixty fifth revision of the first manuscript in the series I'm working on. For the first time in nearly a year, I made some pretty major changes, and continuity became an issue, so I did a read-through before I sent out the new version. What did I find?

Passive voice.



Repeated words.



Verb tense disagreement.



And yes, this is past tense and present tense fighting it out in my brain. It's either laugh or cry, so...

I'm just tired of finding ridiculous errors after this long. Sure, I made changes, wrote new scenes, took out other scenes. Big things. But to find misplaced commas and misspellings at this point? It's...disheartening. But after this most recent Sticky Edit (and you know what that is because you read Simon's post, right?), I feel a lot better about ALL of this.

The truth is, I love finding mistakes. I have to confess, ever time I delete a rogue comma, or remove an overused word, or perhaps zap an entire scene, this now zips through my mind. It's quite satisfying:



But now I'm officially back in edit mode. Wordgarble, consider yourself on notice.

Pitch Wars and Critique Partners

On this, the eve of Pitch Wars mentor announcements, I've been thinking a lot about what the real purpose of this contest has been. Sure, it's fun and immeasurably helpful to get help from an agented author. It's also helpful to get your query and novel polished to perfection (or as close to perfection as any novel can get). But what is the real benefit here? Learning about critiquing.

When I first started writing, this was my biggest stumbling block. I read sites that advised you share your work with your "writer friends." Hah! What writer friends? I didn't have any, and I was darn sure I wouldn't have any until I was a Successfully Published Writer. Where the heck could I meet all these potential writer friends, when I was a complete nobody who never wrote anything?




Turns out, lots of places.

I met writers online, through other contests, through their blogs (and eventually through this one right here), through Twitter, and even through Facebook. There are always writers who are in the same place in the process that you are. You just have to know where to look for them. Pitch Wars has been a great way to connect with many new writers who are in the query trenches, too. Make nice, and they might read for you if you read for them.

 

Initially, the thought of sharing my writing with others, and asking for their honest opinion and critique, was a little intimidating. Even more intimidating was asking to read their writing and offer my own opinions. What the heck did I know about critiquing? The idea of making with the judgy on someone else's writing gave me the cold sweats. Who was I to tell them they didn't need that comma there (BONUS COMMAS, as I call them now), or that they shouldn't use the same word three times in two sentences, or that their phrasing at a critical moment in their beloved story came across as clunky and jarring instead of inspiring and enlightening? I was terrified of saying the wrong thing, of coming across like an ass, and of not doing a good job.

To be honest, the first time I ever critiqued something, I got lucky. I wasn't the first person to edit the manuscript, and there wasn't all that much to do to make it shiny. It was a gentle introduction to the fine art of being a merciless nitpicker. Also, as I've since been informed, as long as it's done with love, merciless nitpicking is actually a valued trait in a CP.

Not only have I benefited from the opinions and ideas of a wonderful group of people who read my writing and offered advice, but my writing has improved through helping others, too. It's all good for you.

And on that note, I want to sincerely thank all the mentors in Pitch Wars, and all the writers who've jumped at the chance to earn such an experienced CP. Just remember, your fellow Pitch Warriors would also make fine CP's. Even if we don't end up with a shiny new mentor, we still have each other. Extend a hand to a fellow writer, and be patient and understand as you learn the ropes of this valuable skill together. We all have it in us to be great mentors to each other.

 

And now, back to the fantastic manuscript I'm helping to add a spit-shine to. Because this one deserves all the polish it can get.

**NOTE: There's a great new website, CPseek.com, set up by @Fizzygrrl's talented husband. It's a great place to connect to other writers seeking a CP (as the title should make quite clear!). Go check it out!

Editing, With Cookies

I've been doing a lot of baking this week. I made about 300 Christmas cookies, most of which I will be giving as gifts to friends, family, neighbors, and anyone else, because otherwise I would eat all 300 of them. But that's another story entirely.

This morning while I stood in the kitchen, rolling out yet another pan of cookies, I realized how much it reminded me of editing. I'll get into that in a second. First, for non-writer friends, or anyone who clicked through just to see pictures of baked goods, a little anecdote.

On Sunday, Lulu helped me bake the first batch of cookies, and I thought for sure it would take twice as much time to make today's batch by myself. Not so. Turns out, I'm pretty efficient on my own. It was, however, a lot less fun to bake alone. I guess that's why my mind wandered so far from baking.

So here goes, my doughy mashup of holiday baking and editing.

Sunday's cookies were green. We cut out trees and holly leaves, and dipped them in white chocolate. Snow, y'all! Today's cookies were SUPPOSED to be red, but even after using most of a bottle of red food coloring, they still look a little pink. I figured they'd darken up a bit in the oven. Yeah, not so much.

Sort of red.

So this is the raw material I had to work with. My original draft. I could have just wadded it up and shoved it in the oven as-is. It would probably taste okay, but there would be no beauty. Not to mention, it wouldn't bake evenly. There'd be doughy bits in the center, and the bottom would certainly burn. It needed zazz. It needed editing. BRING ON THE COOKIE CUTTERS!

I started the job with dough that was ALMOST the right color, but there wasn't really much I could do with it. I tried adding more food coloring, but it seemed to get a brighter and brighter pink, rather than deepening to a rich red. I stopped before I turned the stuff day-glo fuschia, at least. Knowing when to stop walking down a path that isn't turning out right is half the battle in editing, too.

So finally it was time to cut. I intended to make a batch of stars and then dip them in dark chocolate. I have a half a dozen different star shaped cookie cutters, so I got them all out. Some have five points, some six, and one even has eight points! Variety! I picked one out and set to work. Between the strange dark pink color and my indelicacy with a spatula, most of the first batch reminded me of Patrick Star.

Just add green shorts and a confused facial expression.

I saw my mistake. The points of this star were too long and thin. They tended to bend a little when I transferred them to the cookie sheet. I tried to straighten them out, but then I ended up with bloated blobby points. Not to mention in that first pan, I don't think I rolled the dough thin enough. They were still puffed up too much.

Same goes for editing. The first pass through a manuscript will be rough. Even the basic shape of it might be a little off. Big things are easy to spot and fix. The obvious. The glaring. Like, "Hey, that looks like a beautiful daisy!" "Uh, yeah, but it's supposed to be a STAR!" You see smaller things you need to fix, but you have to be able to see all the problems before you can fix them all. It was time to try again. Second round!

On the second try, I used a different shape. It had shorter arms, and they were less likely to end up looking like Patrick, but they were also more likely to end up looking blobby. Live and learn.

Sometimes in editing you make a change, and take it too far. You wouldn't want to remove ALL the adverbs, for example. The rules of writing exist, but that doesn't mean they are etched in stone and you'll be thrown out of the Temple of Publishing forever if you bend them a little. In fact, if you don't bend them a little, you may as well be writing technical manuals, not fiction. You don't want to give up the essential look of a star just so you won't have to worry about bending the arms a bit. Blobby stars were a no go. Time for round three!

This time, I tried yet ANOTHER shape. This one wasn't half bad. It was much larger than the first two, so I could fit fewer on the tray at a time. I started to worry I'd be in the kitchen forever unless I did something drastic. I crammed as many of the large stars as I could on the tray, and lo and behold, problems arose.

SMOOSH!

Same goes for editing. Work too fast, or try to cram too much in during one revision, and it starts to blur together in your mind. You have to keep characters, subplots, and scenes separate, or they start looking like one big character, one big muddle of scenes. Editing is not a time to rush. Your characters should be evolving and becoming more distinct, and your scenes should be clearer and more concise with each round. If you're racing through edits at a blur, that's how the story will look to your readers. On to round four!

Finding a satisfactory plan B.

By this point, I was sick of stars. They were hard to cut out and force them to hold their shape. What had become of all my brilliantly laid plans? Screw it! Time to make stockings instead.

Sometimes it's easier to just make a change when the reality of all the faults of your original plan seem to hit you at once. Sometimes a character needs to go. Sometimes, after several rounds of editing, you'll realize that one of your subplots goes nowhere. Sometimes you need to add in a new character, one who will help tie the story together. Whatever's wrong, sometimes it takes a big change of shape to set you back on the right course.

My stocking cookies will taste just as good as the stars, and they'll still get a chocolate coating, but won't they be a nice change from a mountain of stars? Okay, now that I'm really getting the hang of this, I'm ready for round five.

Oops.

Sometimes things go awry. When baking, it's easy to dispose of the evidence. Om nom nom. When editing, sometimes it's best to do the same. Eat those plot holes! CHOMP!

Eventually the ball of dough you have to work with gets smaller

and smaller

and smaller...

Until you don't have enough to cut any more cookies. With each pass of edits, there should be fewer and fewer problems. Less to work with, not in the sense that there are few words in total, but in the sense that there are fewer WRONG words to fix. It's quite satisfying when a pass through only leads to minor tweaking.

In baking, I take that scrap of dough and mush it into a flat blob, and bake it with the rest of the cookies. It's the BONUS COOKIE! My reward for finishing the job.

Now all the hard work is done. It's time to add the decorations. In the case of my cookies, that means chocolate and sprinkles. In the case of my manuscript, it means showing it to my critique partners. They will spit shine it for me, and point out all the problems I'm unable to see for myself. You wouldn't go to all the trouble to bake up those tasty cookies and then leave off the final decoration, that last step. Don't think your manuscript is complete without running it by a few trusted writer friends, either.

I haven't had time to dip all the cookies from today's round of baking, but the ones we finished on Sunday look adorable (and taste quite nice, too). I need to take a break from the kitchen for a bit, but when I go back, I'll be fully engaged with putting the finishing touches on those cookies. Just like putting the finishing touches on my manuscript. Sometimes you need to walk away for a bit, let things cool down, and take everything in with fresh eyes. The cookies will have had a few hours to firm up, or they would crumble when I try to coat them in heavy chocolate. By the time I return, they'll be able to stand on their own. :D

Hope y'all didn't get a stomachache from too many cookie metaphors. Now I'm off to dispose of the evidence that I'm clumsy at handling fresh-baked cookies. And then I need to do some editing.

Ahoy! Tis my anniversARRy today!

Yes. I got married on International Talk Like a Pirate Day. This was unintentional. I swear.

No, our wedding wasn't pirate themed. We got married in 1997, and September 19 wasn't declared International Talk Like a Pirate Day until 2002. So. No pirate-themed wedding. But wouldn't that have been completely AWESOME?!

As it is, I am deliriously happy to have been married to the wonderful Helper Monkey for the last fifteen years. Without even realizing it, I honor September 19th all over my left hand. See?

Yes, that is Captain Jack Sparrow next to my wedding rings.

I've got pirates and my wedding all over the place. I never take those rings off (unless I'm making meatballs, or scrubbing toilets, or, you know, stuff like that. You know how hard it is to pick cookie dough out of Captain Jack's beard? Eww).

In preparation for this evening's festivities, Helper Monkey and I went out to run a few errands. We tried to get the truck washed, but the car wash place was closed. So we went on up to the grocery store for junk food instead. Now we have a celebratory pecan pie for dessert tonight, so that was definitely worth the drive.

We also went to the liquor store for something special to drink. While there, I saw some strange things. This included:

Donut and buttered popcorn flavored vodka. This strikes me as jarringly wrong. There were other alcoholic atrocities going on at the store, but this was the most...disturbing. I mean, donut sounds pretty good, but buttered popcorn? To drink? Ugh. What the hell do you mix it with?

So we got some normal Sam Adams Octoberfest beer. No weirdo dessert vodka for us.

One other strange tidbit before I sign off. I've had some suncatchers up on my front porch glass door since we moved here, about 6 1/2 years ago. Lulu made them when she was like 5 or something. For the last week or so, there's been one crazy hummingbird that comes and checks out the flower-shaped one nearly every day. I have seen him multiple times bumping his little beak up against the window, as if the flower were real and full of yummy nectar. Poor little guy. He's too quick to get a picture of, but I'll keep trying.

And no Progress-O-Meter for the last few days, because I've been wrapped up in CP heaven, reading the final draft of a brilliant R&R. Tomorrow it's back to work for me! In the mean time, hoist yer grog before I make ye walk the plank, ya scurvy cur! :D

Getting back on the horse after tumbling off and rolling around on the ground for a few months...

So, I've been a little ranty-pants for the last few days. I hope y'all can forgive me. I was under the weather with the blergs, but I feel a lot better now. My posts from now on will hopefully reflect the improvement!

On the up side, I have had a lot of time to read. When you can't do anything other than lie there like a lump, reading is an excellent option, at least until you fall asleep on the book and drool on the pages...

But I've largely caught up on my beta-reading duties. I've also been FINALLY reading The Enchantress by Michael Scott. I'd already read the rest of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel series, and since this is the final installment, I can't believe I've been sitting on it since it was released in May. That is just how busy I've been. Then again, it got buried on my coffee table for a month or so, and I completely forgot it was there. When I found it again a few days ago, I was THRILLED! HEY! NEW BOOK!!! *_*

And now, while I wait for my CP's to finish writing their current wip's, or to finish their revisions, I shall return to the writing trenches.

It's George! Hows about we go for a ride?

It has been so long since I worked on book three in the series I'm querying right now that I have absolutely no recollection of the details I've written so far. I remember the basic story up to the point where I left off, but revising two of my own books, plus doing critiques and beta reads on several others, not to mention all the summer vacation business, I'm afraid I drove all the plot details right out of my little pea-brain.

I know the worst thing you can do is go back and edit before the first draft is complete. I'm trying to promise myself to leave all the words alone, but I must go back and reread from the beginning. I don't remember some of the minor characters' names (folks who are necessary to the plot, but with very little time on the page so far), all the little twisty-turns I've written, and exactly that the timeline looks like. I MUST go back and read it from the beginning. I hope I don't fall into the trap of revising the first draft in progress. Then again, I revised books 1 and 2 so much in the last few months, some revision will probably be necessary. Required, even. Otherwise, what I've already written won't make sense with the other revisions... Sigh.

So there it is. The main reason I've been procrastinating on getting back to writing. Editorial Paralysis.

I'm looking to George for support. Come on, George!

I will repost the Progress-O-Meter as soon as I make some...

Has summer derailed your writing plans? Or have you ever walked away from a half-written manuscript, only to return several months later? How did you get back into it?

Food, Kitchens, and Cooking

Okay, I understand that I talk about food all too often. I can't help it. Helper Monkey works at a grocery store, and we talk about groceries at least three times a day. I assume most people do. For some reason, today was particularly food-centric for me. Here I attempt to rehash the most relevant moments of foodiness from today.


Saturday, Sunday, and Monday I worked baseball games, and the guilt of not being home for dinner three nights in a row was starting to get to me. My poor family had to get by on pizza, breakfast-for-dinner, and the like. Last night I cooked. It was nice for me, too. I'd been living on french fries and chicken fingers at the park.

Today Helper Monkey and I watched Hell's Kitchen, thus starting the food fuss. It all went downhill from there.

Before dinner, I exchanged an increasingly dyspeptic series of emails with Fabulous Crit Partner, Feaky Snucker, about disgusting foods. This chat centered around beets, in particular, and why we both think they are The Devil's Food. Now that I'm settled in with a therapeutic bowl of ice cream, I can discuss beets without feeling the need to hurl. It was not the best topic for pre-meal conversation, though.

Also, while making dinner, and yet again being blinded by steam fogging up my glasses, I wondered if there were any professional chefs who wear glasses. I wonder how they manage. I mean, I really only cook one meal a day, and it drives me bonkers to be periodically blinded while handling boiling hot things. It leads to a fair degree of physical injury.

While I cooked, we discussed the fact that one of the chefs on Hell's Kitchen professed a dislike of cilantro. Helper Monkey hates the stuff. I tried to convince him that it had a respectable place in cooking. Let's just say the conversation devolved comically to the point where Lulu chimed in that we were acting in a fashion unbecoming parents. I think it was my "OH NO YOU DIDN'T" comment that pushed her over the edge.

I asked the Monkey what Pad Thai (a dish he loves) would be without a little cilantro. He answered, "Better." "OH NO YOU DIDN'T!", to which he replied, "UH UH GIRLFRIEND!" etc. etc.

The conversation went downhill from there, to the point we were quoting Geoff Peterson and doing the Secretariat dance. Lulu observed like we were an exhibit at the zoo. She's our own personal Jane Goodall. Someday I'm sure we'll be the subject of an academic paper. Or therapy.

Luckily, I can go back to editing now. I think part of my problem is lack of sleep. I was up until 1:30 last night revising, and then up at 6 am today. Food (and caffeine) is about the only thing keeping me from slipping into a coma right now. And on that happy note, back to editing.

This little snippet of my fascinating life has been brought to you by the versatile herb, cilantro. Suck it up, Helper Monkey!

New Writing/Editing Achievement Unlocked

For those who don't already know, I've finally been working with a GEN-YOU-WINE crit partner who is overflowing with remarkably spot-on advice. It has been an eye-opening journey from what I mistakenly believed was a well-edited manuscript to what is rapidly becoming an actually-well-edited manuscript.

BUT HOLD YOUR HORSES, PEOPLE! It took a while, but I finally unlocked the most awesome writing achievement that has hit me so far. Chapter 22 is my new "favorite thing I ever wrote." No, I don't think it's the most crucial bit of dialogue, or the most evocative of character development, or even the most moving, or savvy, or intellectual. It is, however, the first chapter we sailed straight through without making a single change.

It's probably not perfect. For all I know, it's the chapter that will receive the most slashy red markings from a future editor. But for one glorious moment, I held my head high. I wrote something that my excellent and insightful crit partner left intact.

She pointed out to me that as we go along, we become better at writing. And yes, the farther into the book we get, the fewer corrections there have been overall. But this, a whole chapter that could stand as-is, made my day.

Achievement Unlocked!

Love and chocolates for everyone! I'm dancing through my day today. Feel free to picture that in whatever way makes you laugh hardest.

And a happy Sunday, and Happy Canada Day, eh? For me, it's Happy Chapter 22 Day!

Writing is Evolution, or why chapter one stopped working

When I started writing the first book in this series, way back at the end of last summer, I knew who the characters were, and I had a general idea of the conflict that should arise and how it would be resolved. That was it. It was, admittedly, very little to base a novel on, let alone a series of books.

I wrote, revised, edited, and then wrote some more. Fast forward about eight months. I'm half way through writing the first draft of the third book in this series. All the while I've been adding things and taking away things from book the first. At this point, I'm happier with the second book in the series than the first, because it's been incubating on the hard drive for a while, while I've been playing with book one again. Book three is sitting idle, waiting for me to resume the car chase scene I abandoned it in.

Why would I abandon a perfectly good car chase? Because I found out that book one was more of a car accident. Thanks to the insightful and delightful editorial input of one @FeakySnucker, every confusing thing is being excised or rewritten. And I'm grateful.

The process of writing seems to breed inconsistency. The more I wrote, the more alive my characters became in my head, the more I went back and changed things. Turns out, a lot of those changes created strange loops, redundancy, and a host of other problems. The biggest problem? The story changed or grew in my head without any of that information landing on the page. Not exactly convenient for the reader, eh?

Since I don't write specifically for the mind-readers of the world, it's fantastic to have someone point out the confusing bits. I know the story so well now that I'm incapable of seeing the deficiency. My brain fills in the gaps with the information it knows should be there.

When I was in seventh grade, my English teacher was explaining the importance of punctuation. He asked for a volunteer to stand up and read a paragraph out loud. I'm a dork, so I volunteered. The sample had no punctuation marks. The teacher, who obviously didn't know me very well yet, expected me to read it as one long breathless blob of words. My brain wouldn't allow that. I read it like it SHOULD have been written, inserting my own pauses where they clearly should have been. The teacher was flustered, and asked me to sit down, complaining that I was clearly too good a reader for that particular exercise.

But that's what my brain tends to do. When there's a mistake, I fix it automatically and move on. Just like with the little blobby writing sample, if I KNOW something should be in there, I fill in the gap and keep going. It might be selective blindness, or maybe I just have some sort of mental spackle that smooths all the rough bits and plot holes out.

And that, my friends, is why a good editor or crit partner is worth their weight in helium. (Comment context for the science-impaired: since helium is lighter than air, amassing enough to equal a human's weight is impossible, thus rendering their value as infinitely increasing.)

So all that setup (Look Ma! Backstory!) goes to prove a single point. I had to essentially rewrite the first chapter of the first book in the series last night. I was up until 3 in the morning, but I murdered half a dozen darlings, and wrote three new paragraphs that set the stage so much better. They explain the essential conflict of the story. I'd assumed all along that everyone would understand the MC's problem immediately, but then it was pointed out to me that I never really explained it at all! Crap! So now it's in there.

I'm going back to reread from the beginning, and hopefully I'll tweak and clarify a bit more before the mental spackle starts spreading over it again.

Just for fun, now: Things overheard in my house in the last 24 hours:

Me, being a bad influence: Lulu, you want to have cake for lunch?
Lulu: No, I think I want a proper lunch before cake.
Me: O_o
Lulu, 5 minutes later after rummaging through the fridge: Okay, I'll have some cake.

Helper Monkey, on leaving for work after a week of vacation: Good night, see you in the morning.
Me: Don't work too hard!
40 minutes later, the phone rings, and I panic. Phones ringing at midnight aren't usually a good thing.
HM: Guess what?
Me, panicky: What? Please tell me you're okay?
HM: Fine. I'm not scheduled to come back until tomorrow night. I'll be home in half an hour.
Me: Crap. Ten bucks in gas down the toilet...and the last night of your vacation wasted.

Oh, and I went swimming for the first time this summer. I've taken Lulu to the pool several times, but this was the first time I went in. It was so crowded, you needed a shoehorn to get in. Even the lap lane was populated with people teaching their toddlers how to doggie paddle. I managed to get about two dozen laps in, nonetheless, by swimming under, around, and through clusters of sunburned teenagers and kids in floaties. It was better than nothing. Hopefully we'll get to go back this week at a less crowded time. Usually after dark is the time to go. All the moms who sit in the lounge chairs baking themselves are gone, and the few kids tend to stick to the shallow end and let the old fogies have the lap lane.

With that cheerful thought, GET OFF MY LAWN! I'm going back to work. Thanks for tolerating me yet again.

It's hard to stay cool in 100 degree heat

Obvious, right? But I'm staying cool for now. It's only 88 so far today, but it's supposed to hit triple digits. There's some great news to balance out the face-melting, hair-poodlifying weather, though.

The best news I've had in a while came yesterday around dinner time. I spent most of the day busy with stuff and things. I was feeling a little sad that Helper Monkey's vacation week was passing so quickly, but I was determined to enjoy it as much as possible. Then the major revelation hit. Helper Monkey let me in on the secret. Yesterday was WEDNESDAY! I spent the entire day thinking it was Thursday!

In one brilliant, shining moment, I experienced time travel! I gained a whole day! Even if it only happened inside my brain, it was a brilliant feeling. I can't even describe how happy I was.

But now it really is Thursday *checks calendar to be sure*. Yes. Today is Thursday. It's like Groundhog Day! But I only get to have two Thursdays this week (one of which, I know, was technically Wednesday, but humor me, please).

Unfortunately, the combination of heat and humidity does horrible things to my hair. This is Hat Weather. I look like a cross between Jimmy Neutron and an electrocuted poodle. During the winter, I can make my hair nearly straight. In summer it always looks like I had a drastic haircut combined with a bad perm.

So what do you do to avoid melting into the pavement on days like today? Helper Monkey has invented Oven Day Fun Time. This is similar to Rainy Day Fun Time, without the joy of putting on a bathing suit and running around the yard through a downpour. We play a lot of games. We watch movies in the basement, where it's always 15 degrees cooler than upstairs, and today, we might go bowling. Duck pin bowling. A.K.A., the GOOD kind of bowling. But I'm only going if they assure me their A/C is working, and currently blasting out snowflakes in addition to cold air.

Tonight, and I do mean late tonight, we might head over to the pool. We've only been a couple of times so far this year, and I have a feeling it will be as warm as bath water tonight. Maybe we can bring a few drinking straws, blow bubbles, and pretend it's a huge Jacuzzi.

Oh, and the editing is going like blazes! Sorry for the heat-related metaphor. Okay. The editing is going like water in a waterslide. There. That's more refreshing, right?

I'm half way through chapter two, and finding bits and pieces that need to be rewritten or moved elsewhere. I waited too long to explain a few things about the world, and I'm moving them closer to the front of the book. All this edity-wedity stuff is so thrilling! And I sincerely do mean that! :)

I love watching the story I love get better and better. :)


 I hope everyone stays cool today. Keep Cool and Have a Frozen Lemonade!

***Edit: It's easier to stay cool when I can sit in my chair and scroll through Tweeties. Also, Twitter is back now! Yay!

Back to the beginning, with better notes this time.

Between being on pseudo-vacation this week, and numerous tiny but time consuming chores, I haven't really been writing. Sigh, once again. This is becoming an all-too-frequent refrain around here. It's starting to sound a little whiny.

Hark! What's that yonder? *squint really hard at the horizon*

It's a PROPER edit/crit of my first manuscript! Wait...oh no! It's too much! It burns! Aaaah!

Cue much flailing and wailing and gnashing and rending. /END that silliness, pull on Big Girl Pants

Now that I've recovered from the shock that my writing isn't 100% clear and perfect (I know, right?), I have renewed purpose. I'm bowing out of the #B22K exercises for a bit. I might keep writing the WIP, but for now, the primary goal is to get book one up to snuff before finishing book three. It only makes sense.

In the mean time, I will keep writing. I can't really help myself at this point, even if it is just a few hundred words a day.

Also, I'm wondering what to do about the submissions I have out at the moment. Book One is in the hands of people with the power to make my dreams of publication come true, but now I'm terrified they aren't seeing the story at its best. Do I email them and ask for a chance to resubmit after the edits are complete? Or is that wishy-washy?

I know I'm frequently wishy-washy, so I'm not afraid of that. I just want to know what agents/editors might think of such a request. Any ideas/suggestions? Thank you all! :)

Unraveling, unwinding

I spent ALL DAY (other than a two hour break to take my daughter to a dance) writing synopses (synopsises?) for my first two novels. I actually had a two page synopsis for the first novel, but I'd recently learned that agents might want a shorter, one page synopsis. Ack! Don't they know how hard it is to relate everything in a 350 page book in just two single spaced pages? Now they want it chopped to a single page? Whasa?

So I started with that. I copied the long synopsis that I made during my first round of edits into a new document, and started chopping and rearranging, rewriting and condensing. It took hours, but eventually, I got that sucker to fit on a single page. And then it was on to the difficult task.


I took notes during the first round of edits on the second novel, but I never transcribed them into a proper synopsis. When I reread after the first draft, I make notes of every plot point, character intro, and anything else I think is important to the story. I started by transcribing all fourteen pages of notes. Fourteen pages! Granted, that's fourteen pages of my handwriting in a 6x9 legal pad, so it's not as bad a fourteen pages of typed notes, or fourteen pages of notebook paper. Still, though, I write kind of small...

When I finished that, I had four pages of typed, single-spaced synopsis. It was nearly 2300 words. Too long even for a long synopsis. I got out my chainsaw and started cutting, pasting, and rewriting. I finally got it down to two pages, single spaced. I renamed the file "Long Synopsis", saved it and copied it into a new document. This time, instead of a chain saw, I used a scalpel. I pared everything that wasn't absolutely necessary to coherency and after hours of this, at 12:19 this morning, I finally had a single page that defines Devil May Care. Then I went to bed.

Seriously, it took about twelve hours to do that. I promised myself a reward today if I could get it done. So I'm paying up. I've spent most of the day today reading Unraveling by Liz Norris. It's great! I'm about a quarter through it, so I'm eager to get back to reading now. It's the kind of book you can't put down once you pick it up, and I'm too eager to find out what happens next, and what's up with the mysterious Ben, what Janelle's dad knows about the victims in his case, and what it has to do with Janelle. So....gotta go now.

Oh, one last thing. I was enamored with Lulu's fashion choice this morning:

Stripey!

The The

Not the band. I actually typed this in a manuscript. The Helper Monkey was reading yesterday, and caught it. Too bad that particular novel is out with agents, and entered in a writing contest. I was distressed, but figured it wasn't too bad. One silly little typo.

The "the the" he found should have read "and the". I figured the fastest way to find it and correct it was to use the search function, and look for "the the." The only instance it should have found was the one Helper Monkey pointed out. Or so I thought.

The first instance of double the's occurred about a hundred pages before the one he noticed. I cringed, deleted the bonus "the," and moved on. It had to be the next one...

And it wasn't. I fixed the second double the and moved on again.

Third time's the charm, though. The third one was the correct one, and the last one. I changed the first the to and, and saved.

YIKES! Bear in mind, I've read, edited, and revised this manuscript no fewer than fifteen times, and it's been read by Helper Monkey twice now. We never caught any of these before. It gives me the vapors thinking about how many other mystery mistakes are still swimming around in the text. I feel so incompetent! :)

Then again, out of 105,000 words, there are bound to be a few mistakes that I'm incapable of catching. Eventually, I think my brain stops seeing them. I know the words so well, I know what they're SUPPOSED to be doing together, and I unconsciously overlook the few troublemakers.

The the end.

*oh, except for the the writing update:

Words: 15,270
Pages: 51
It's been a slog this week. Writing a new novel always entails new research, especially at the beginning. I've been learning all about Damascus steel, railroad spikes, and Northern Italy (one of my characters is from that region). I'm sure there will be more fun research to come, but in the mean time, back to writing...

The Weekend of Multiple Engagements

Today was my last day of peace and quiet for the rest of the weekend. I was determined to finish my edits on the second novel in my series. I succeeded! Hoorah!

I'm now torn between re-reading the first 39 pages I had on book 3 before I halted to handle a rewrite on the first book, and then the edits on the second (to bring it in line with changes made in the first), and giving myself a break for the crazy, hectic few days ahead.

Tomorrow, we go to DC for the day, and I'm really looking forward to everything about it (other than waking up before 6 am).

Friday is Opening Day at the Frederick Keys, and I'm cash manager for one of the concession stands. It's all for charity, but there are 80 home games, and I'm expected to work about a quarter of them. I have a feeling I'm not going to sign up for this detail again, but we'll see how it goes.

Saturday at 8 am Lulu and I are working at a pancake breakfast at a local senior living home.

Saturday afternoon, back to the Keys for game 2 of the season.

Sunday, you guessed it, back to the Keys yet again.

I'm gonna smell like fried chicken and beer. Ick. But I'll smell like fried chicken and beer for a good cause.

With all that coming up, I'm not really itching to get started on an essentially new project. When I start a new novel, even though I'm already 39 pages in already, I really want to sit down in an uninterrupted fashion and bang out the basic plot over the course of a week or two. I don't think I'll really be able to focus on it until at least Monday. I am seriously not pleased about it, which I think is a Good Thing.

If I'm this upset about losing my uninterrupted writing time, it must mean I'm committed to it. When I'm not writing now, I feel...wrong. I can't really describe it. It's like I'm wearing pinchy shoes, or an itchy sweater. I just can't get comfortable until I start writing again.

Thalia's world is growing to the point where it's leaking out of me when I can't keep churning it out on paper (or in pixels). I suppose it is a Good Thing. Except when I can't spend the day writing!

At least I still have coffee. If I have to, I'll stay up late, get up early, and work through lunch to get some pages made this weekend. I'll take a bit of advice from my newest fridge magnet, which I actually have stuck to the hood over the stove:

Words of Wisdom.

*Ribbit Crrrrooak*

Yes, I am losing my voice. Reading out loud for two days will do that to you. I've read 204 pages out loud in the last few days, and it's really trying. I've been subsisting on toast and hot tea, hoping I can make it another 122 pages without going completely croaky.

I've still got to chaperone a field trip on Thursday, and nothing is worse than trying to keep a dozen kids together while on the loose in downtown DC if you don't have a voice to yell at them. Maybe I could bring an air horn along. There must be an app for that. (Time passes while I check into it...) Yes, there are DOZENS of air horn apps. That's a relief. I'll just blast any wayward kids if I can't yell.

Also, I can't believe the strange things I've found to fix just by hearing my own words out loud. I think the sense of sight and the sense of hearing (or even the part of our brains that controls speech) process things in different ways. I haven't necessarily found mistakes, per se, but things that could have been written more clearly, or more concisely, or more precisely. I'm never going to let a manuscript out of my hands again until it's been through the read-out-loud test. Best advice I ever got.

I'm glad I finally got over my reticence to hear my own words in my own voice. It was embarrassing at first, because other people could periodically hear me reading it out loud (Helper Monkey and Lulu both have spent time in the room while I've been reading), and because somehow hearing my words out loud somehow made them more real.

I'm not a shy person. I'm not afraid to say what's on my mind, usually. But this is just weird.

I've cringed at the thought of other people reading my novels. I've cringed at the thought that those people will then want to talk to me about them. For some reason, despite not being afraid of saying most anything that comes into my head, letting other people in to meet my imaginary friends scares the crap out of me. I've poured myself into my writing. Knowing other people are reading it is nearly as bad as walking around naked and asking people to comment on my little show. Scary!

But it's what I wanted when I started writing. We'll see if I ever get over that weird feeling.

Also, I finally made a real commitment to writing as a career choice. I ordered business cards. I was going to post a picture of my card here, but then I realized it had my home address, phone numbers, and email address on them. I don't think a random public blog is the right venue for all that information. I took the photo and blurred out the details I don't feel like sharing with the known universe.

How official!

Time to take out the trash. The literal trash. Gotta go, or I'll feel like a lazy bum for not helping.

Reading Allowed...uh, I mean aloud.

I've been reading my current ms out loud to find awkward dialogue, bad grammar, and places where words might be overused. This has been very helpful. I can't tell you how many times I'll be reading along, and SAY a different word than my eyes SEE. I usually end up changing the word to the one my ears told me would sound better. I'm pleased with the results, so far.

I've also started noticing some strange things about my characters. I thought I just made most of them up out of whole cloth, but obviously that's not how brains work. We create characters out of a mish-mosh of people we know, and people we know of, like characters from TV shows and movies.

The other night, I had a shocking revelation. I was watching NCIS, and I realized my main character, Thalia, is about 75% Ziva. o_O

Once I got over the idea that I hadn't actually created my little imaginary friend, but cobbled her together from various sources, I've been racking my brain since then to figure out who else donated a bit of their personality to Thalia. And then I started thinking about my other characters.

I had a moment of additional panic when I thought ALL my characters were based on NCIS, but I realized that didn't really hold up. Though I think of Henry (Thalia's father-in-law) as a little Gibbs-y, it doesn't hold up as an accurate character description. So, relief. At least I didn't just pull my characters out of a single TV show.

Now I'm officially on a quest to figure out who all my characters are based on. I asked the Helper Monkey what he thought, and he agreed he could see Ziva in Thalia. I also asked him if he could see any other similarities between my characters and any people -- real or imaginary -- we know or have seen on TV. He said, "Nothing leaps to mind," which translates as, "Can't you see I'm watching NASCAR? Can we have this conversation another time, like maybe when I'm asleep?"

So I'll continue to think about the people I've created. I hope the rest of my imaginary friends are a little harder to figure out, though. So much for originality!

Thank you, Ziva, for inspiring Thalia for me, even if it was completely unintentional. At least you're a badass!

Conclusion: I watch too much NCIS.

Better, and a few odd happenings

I don't have the Death Migraine anymore, but my back is still sore. That one spot keeps throbbing, just out of reach, where I can't rub it out myself. Gah!

We went to get the oil changed in both cars today, and had a lovely morning sitting in a mechanic's waiting room. Tim needed to have his brakes replaced, so I let him drive home in my truck while I sat around and waited for his Jeep. I had my laptop with me, so I did some work, and then had a lovely chat with the other patrons in the lobby.

I don't drive the Jeep very often, and after driving my Monster Truck, it feels tiny! The handling is also very stiff compared to the truck's. It was still a novelty to drive it home. But that's when all the fun started.

Tim keeps his keys on the nightstand next to his side of the bed. When I got home, I put his keys on my nightstand. Well, duh. He'd never have found them there in the dark tonight. I couldn't find where he put my keys, either. On the kitchen counter, it turns out. We got all that sorted out pretty quickly. I put my keys where I usually do, in the Pile O'Crap on the ottoman where I keep my laptop when it's not on my lap. Of course, that meant when I went to get Lulu from school this afternoon, I couldn't find my darn keys to save my life. Panic ensued. I found them eventually, and all is right with the world again.

Sorry, got distracted there. Tim came in and put on The Family Feud and I can't help myself but to play along. Sick, right? Great, there's another episode on, and it's the Johnson Family versus the Johnson Family. I kid you not. Too many Johnsons.

Anyway, one final bit of nuttiness. I checked my Blogger stats today for the first time in a while, and oddly, this very blog was found by someone using the search term "I'm a writer who is schizoid." What? Seriously?

Also, I've noticed that each time I reread my WIP, I focus on a different aspect of editing. One time through I might focus on grammar and spelling. The next time, I'll focus on continuity. The next, I'll make sure my dialogue tags aren't too bizarre. Maybe another pass-through will find me focusing on removing redundant bits of conversation, or finding all those places where I used the same word three times in one paragraph. Another will focus on the removal of stilted-sounding dialogue. I never seem to be able to coordinate all those things into one reading.

I've also found that when I make significant changes to one aspect, I need to go back for a follow-up reading to be sure I didn't change it so much it no longer fits right into the story, and that it doesn't parrot back another section. I've found that before. I'll make an edit to a conversation, and the characters already had that discussion thirty pages ago, or thirty pages in the future, but I couldn't remember it when I made the change. Aah, continuity.

So with that in mind, I'm making what I hope is the last pass over the second novel before returning to the first.

I need a nap, but I'm too guilty to sleep

Yes. I have done the unthinkable. I've sent my child to school sick. I wasn't feeling particularly well this morning, and I thought it was just pre-spring-break blahs on Lulu's part. Now that I'm on the verge of propping my eyelids open with toothpicks just to stay awake, I'm starting to believe I should have kept her home today. She still hasn't called home sick yet, so maybe she is feeling better? I'm certainly not.

I was thinking about lying down, but I feel so awful that Lulu can't that I'm compelled to sit in this chair and work. Ha! I can barely lift my head. I don't need to look at the computer to type, but I would to edit. Can't edit if you can't see the screen. (I apologize if this post is excessively error-riddled, since I'm barely glancing at it while I type.)

I managed about 25 pages of edits last night before I gave up, around midnight. I'm so close to done, I can smell the finish line. And then a quick read-through should finish that up. Then on to the next book. Aah. I have a feeling the main plot of that one is going to change a bit, though. That's the weird thing about setting aside a partial manuscript for a few weeks. I've been thinking about it, and thinking about my characters while editing them again in the previous two novels. I think there's some stuff I need to introduce earlier in the book, and I need to change some of the setup of the "crime" that drives the plot forward. Maybe I've had too long to stew over the details, but then again, stew always tastes better a day after you make it. Great. Now I want stew.

I've already decided to skip chorus tonight. I'm simply too sick to drive. I managed to get to the bank this morning, but I was veering on delirious, so I don't think I'll try that trick again today. Especially not a rush hour on the narrow streets of Downtown Frederick. In my ginormous truck. Parallel parking is beyond my current skill set until I feel better.

I'm off to pretend I'm well enough to be ambulatory, at least for another two hours until Lulu gets home. Maybe we can make stew and collapse on the couch together. At least I won't feel guilty about it anymore.