I would like to make Thursday a regular thinking day, but that might be asking a bit much of the old braincells. But they're kind of awake today, so I thought I'd just ramble on about what I've been doing this week.
First of all, I am sensing an awakening. My muse is starting to come to from the powerhouse sucker punch she took from my son. (Who knew the chit would have a glass jaw?) I finished the edits on one of my last mss. This is good because I've been attempting to work on it all summer and had to all but rewrite the end. So enamored was I, apparently, of my next book I pretty much wrote crib notes for the last two chapters of this one and had called it a day. I hereby tattoo myself "Moron" and vow never to do that again.
Yeah, I don't buy it either, but I'll give it a good shot.
Also, my beloved Chargers talked themselves out of beating Bill Parcells and the Cowboys. I don't want to say that it was because we didn't have our Tight End who held out and got suspended for Game 1. It's because they forgot that 7 yards to the endzone in 47 seconds is completely possible with a rusher. Especially LaDanian Tomlinson. Run the frick'n ball, Marty. It ain't against the law. But, ultimately, I blame Jammer, our Safety. Hands off, honey, should have learned that in high school when the gals started slapping you.
Other than that, I've been noticing that I'm slowly but sure scraping off my bitterness. It's a thick crust, most likely born of industry stagnation, aggrivated health problems, multiple long ms waits, irritation with editing and the long, long LONG summer of mommies. My son is now roughly shaped like an Oompa Loompa because I couldn't do very much physically and he spent the summer like a veal in front of the tv. The evil plan is to get him a bike when we can afford it and drag both our lazy, fat asses outside for some exercise. I'll keep y'all posted on that one, since hubby outright refuses to just buy a bike from WalMart until we look around and he has no time to look around. (Why do men think that kind of attitude makes any sense? The child is turning into a ball. Seriously, at what point can he just admit he's not going to do it and let me do what can be done quickly and easily? Of course...I've been wrong before. It's gonna be a bitter pill if he's right on this one. I'll keep y'all posted.)
So, I was thinking as well, that I have to somehow find a way to set up a schedule for my house that allows me to clean it, write, feed the family and do my job. I want to earn more than I earn, but I'm lame and can't really take on another job. I keep hoping the phone will ring and I'll be able claim I've sold--but so far, that's not paying the rent. It's a lot like relying on lottery tickets to survive. You can do your best writing, do everything you need to to the best of your ability, and still not sell. I'm not bitter about that--much--but I admit, it's hard not to be resentful at times. Eight years is a long time to work at something and not have the payoff you're aiming for. At the least, it's hard to remain upbeat. Perhaps it's just that at this time of year, I'm reminded that I've completed another year and have little to show for it, careerwise. I've made great friends and have learned so much, so I can't discount the time as wasted. I just still hope for something more. Which is probably what keeps me writing.
That's probably enough prattle for y'all--provided you've kept reading this far down. :) I don't blame you if you quit. :) There's a reason I only try to think from time to time. It's scary in my head. :)
Hope y'all are having a great day!