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Month: April 2017

April 2017

Sunday:

It’s been a weird month so far. This is week two of the mid-term break, and we’ve managed to lose all sense of time and routine.  The whole Hobbit/Lord of the Rings marathon  we had here last weekend (in hindsight, not the smartest idea we’ve ever had) didn’t help with that. (Although, I was already a month late with my indieversary post, so not being punctual is sort of a running theme around here). Last month, the youngest trio of loons fell in love with Harry Potter and ran around with sticks making up spells. Now they’re all fighting over who gets to be Legolas and who gets to kill the most orcs. Luckily for our pets, orc costumes for dogs aren’t readily available here. 😀

I’ve been devouring books lately, which is a good sign, and my imagination has started to work again, which is an even better sign, but my ability to focus on one thing at a time is extremely broken. I’ve written a lot of scenes this month, but no more than two in any given story. My brain is just flitting from one thing to another, like old files from nine years ago that I suddenly desperately have to update on the off-chance I find a way to stop needing sleep so I can write backburner books for kicks.

I think I’m just restless in general. I’ve been itching to move house again for a while now (but we’re kind of stuck here for a bit). When I was a teenager, an older co-worker told me about finding her dream house, how she knew it had to be hers as soon as she stepped through the front door, it felt like home immediately, etc. I’ve moved around a fair few times in my life, so the idea of settling into one place and knowing it was The One was fascinating to me. I’m more of the, “okay, we’ve been here for too long, it’s time to pack now” sort. This is why I love renting. I could never be trusted with owning a place. 😀

Monday Edit:

The kids are in school. They were outside in the garden playing at about six this morning, so I won’t be surprised if any of them nod off in class today. This is how I know we can’t homeschool. We need the routine of an actual school day to make us act ever so slightly normal. 😀

I’m going to look for a cover for Crossroads this week, and as soon as I have everything sorted, I’ll send a free copy out to newsletter subscribers. If I’m lucky, it’ll be before the end of the month, but don’t expect it until May.

I feel like I’m forgetting something. Again. Oh, well! Enjoy your week. 🙂

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Belated Seven Year Indieversary

Previous posts:  one, twothreefourfive, and six.

I completely forgot about my little indieversary! (Does it count if you didn’t do anything of note in the last year?) I was so confused, I thought I’d already gone through this year’s post, but as it turns out, that was last year, and my memory sucks. I can’t even blame pregnant brain anymore because I haven’t had a kid since way back in the day. Ageing will just have to take the hit from now on instead. 🙂

So, yeah, a year in review. On the surface, I’d rate the last twelve months (well, thirteen now because I’m perennially late for stuff) as embarrassingly poor. No novel to be seen. That makes me itch. (That could also be the crappy ironlicious hard water in my house though). I’m pretty sure that this time last year I told himself indoors that I had no words left. (Er, again). *Iz still dramatic*

Here’s the thing. When I looked through my notes and files and the work I actually did, I realised I wrote a lot. I wrote novels and created worlds and planned new series. A bunch of them. I just didn’t, you know, do much of anything else with them. Our lifestyle has changed, as I keep harping on about, and apparently I got too used to undistracted time for a while there because even though I started when I had four kids under six (my womb just gasped in horror), a baby on the way, and zero quiet time, now I can’t lose myself in a story if I get interrupted even moderately frequently. It’s been scarily easy to stay in the real world (for the first time in my life because I am a known spacer).

The other day, I told myself I was going to book in editing slots for the Harbinger trilogy, but I chickened out because I convinced myself I wouldn’t be ready. And that’s kind of a self-fulfilling prophecy. Not helped by the fact I partook in too many writing courses due to an obsession with improvement that’s worse now because I overanalyse everything to a disgustingly over the top degree and can’t enjoy reading… anything. (This river I’m crying, it’s all for you.) Other people chase sales and fame and a rock and roll lifestyle, but I’m like “My kingdom for the perfect sentence.” I never said I wasn’t boring, okay?

I released some novellas as a means to give back to the newsletter subscribers, but honestly, each and every one of those gave me So. Much. Stress. because they weren’t Perfect. And I felt guilty firstly because I didn’t publish those for about an eon because I endlessly tweaked every freaking sentence (you know, just to make sure I sucked the fun out of every scene), and then even more so for actually releasing non-Perfect stories, which, let me tell you, is not the path to sanity. (The epic level of run-on sentences in this blog should be a clue).

So there are things I need to work on this year. Stop waiting for ideal working conditions, stop aiming for the Perfect story that will never exist in anyone’s reality, and stop being a big cowardly baby. Not being insane would probably work, too. 😀

Seven years on, and I’m still learning. (And I’m sorry if this blog is particularly rambling and nonsensical, I’m just super tired this year week). Onward!

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