Krissie: Trapped

Photo on 5-7-13 at 10.09 AM All I do is work, and my spirit and body are protesting. I have a lovely spot, I’m loving my book, but I’m being really brutal on myself and everything is rebelling. TMI information time — I pee slowly. Runs in the family, and it’s worse after the hysterectomy. No problem,it’s just leisurely. So I have a handheld solitaire game in the bathroom. Nowadays when I take a pee break my hands shake when I play solitaire.
Now my hands tend to shake anyway — not sure why. They shake more in times of stress or depending what meds I’m on. In fact, they may shake because of the meds. But this shaking is a lot worse.
And I’m so tired. All the time. I need a break. The weather’s been gorgeous, and I can see it out my window (I’ll take pictures, I promise) and feel the breeze, but I’m still trapped up here.
I gave up for a while, went downstairs, cut and filed my very long fingernails which are one of my genetically gifted pieces of real beauty. They’re long and oval Photo on 5-7-13 at 10.15 AM (that might not be clear because, duh, my hands are shaking). Anyway, those are some seriously fine natural fingernails. Problem is, they’re a bitch to play guitar with. It’s hard to get enough pad at the top of the nail to press down on the strings.
But I digress —
So I went out on the deck and tuned the old Guild guitar and played it. My voice was shit, which is interesting. I can belt out “Columbia the Gem of the Ocean” in faux operatic splendor for the tryouts for Music Man, I could sing my solo nun parts quite nicely. But my country voice is shot to hell. And I couldn’t remember lyrics. Jeesh!
So I gotta find my old music notebook, because the Guild is easier to play than the acoustic or my Martin. And sitting on the deck playing and singing is a very good idea.
But even that wasn’t good enough to make me sane again. It’s Deadline Dementia, and there’s not a damned thing I can do but work my ass off and try not to go insane.
I did start a new shawl (the Amita shawl in soft yellow yarn, compliments of Crusie) while I watched the Voice and lusted after Adam Levine, who I like because of his self-deprecating sense of humor (and his tats). So that started to relax me.
We’re getting days of rain starting on Thursday, which we badly need, but tomorrow is going to be another glorious day. I haven’t had a day off in more than a week, and i really need to get some food in, etc. So I think I will try to rise early and then go shopping. I have to get to the point where I’m ready to soar on through to the end (I’m still revising) and then the long drive (65 miles to Costco) will be great for brainstorming.
I just hate how I tend to make myself sick when I finish a book. It’s not fabulous of me.
Okay, a new goal. How to re-imagine my way of working so I don’t become a little puddle of exhaustion and hurt by the end. How do I control what I can’t control (the girls in the basement?). How do I say no to all the distractions that call my name?
How do I find a little balance in all this?
And don’t I have truly great fingernails?

Krissie: All About You

Photo on 3-18-13 at 7.41 AM Are you getting tired of this? It’s March, it’s in the teens, a two day whopper of a storm is coming, and I’m feeling so fucking blaah that I can’t think of anything. I haven’t been writing, I haven’t been swimming, I haven’t been eating well, the house is in chaos. (Banging head against the wall).
Tim calls it March madness. Winter is so freaking long in Vermont that we get a major case of cabin fever around now. Even though I’ve gotten away to NJ (and more snow) a lot, and Richie and Tim got out to Portland, it’s still weighing down on us.
Oh, shit, Richie said it was four below zero this morning. That’s crazy.
Well, I did get my colonoscopy. You cannot imagine how that hung over my head.
But somewhere I have to find the energy to do what needs to be done, what I want to do. And facing a two-day storm that’s going to paralyze everyone isn’t the way to start.
Okay, time to smack myself upside the head. Pull up my socks. So I’m trapped in the house for two days? A perfect time to write, and to work on organizing my office.
I bought lots of healthy food so there’s no excuse on eating crap. I can do what I need to do, and that’s what I’ll do.
I’ll spend the storm in my office, working. That’s really the most important thing I can do right now. I’ll get back to swimming next week.
One thing at a time. This week I’ll concentrate on writing. That’s the most important thing, and I always feel better when I write.
So. I don’t know if the rest of you have a terrible case of the blahs, but let’s not push too much.
What one thing do you want to accomplish this week.

Krissie: Making Books

Photo on 2013-01-29 at 08.00 #2 In between my wifely duties I’ve been making books. In this Brave New World of electronic publishing we no longer write our books and send them in and wait to see whether they sink or swim. Nowadays we make our own as well, thanks to the glorious advent of epublishing. I’m not crazy about the work, and I’m going to train my computer-savvy and art student daughter to do a lot of it, but here’s what’s been going on.
First, there’s the short story. I was invited to be part of, a wonderful site where all sorts of interesting authors like Teresa Medeiros and Barbara Samuel and so many others I can’t even begin to mention, are publishing short stories to keep you occupied during your lunch hour, all at the delightful price of $1.99. What I’ve read so far have been fabulous.
So I said sure because I had several orphaned pieces of writing — beginnings that never went anywhere or ones that got shot down. In particular, I had a story that was going to be an off-shoot of the ICE world, and set up a whole new spin-off series. Well, my agents hated it (too much violence and the rest was just sex) Jenny and Lani had doubts (nothing but violence and sex). Hey, I like violence and sex! Continue reading

Krissie: Update

Photo on 1-10-13 at 10.24 AM #2

Okay, so the scale was up a couple of pounds after ten days of no sugar and fats. Go figure. Undaunted, I’m soldiering on. Back on the old meds (effexor) because Cymbalta was making me a little squirrelly. Richie’s got bronchitis but I’m doing okay, and today I get to play. And go to my shrink.

And I finished the revisions! Except the editor, whom I like (do I keep saying that) seems to think I’m going to do another round of revisions. I beg your pardon?

Nevertheless, the book is off (god bless email) and now I can figure out how quickly I can get down to Crusie’s. I need a break.

Krissie: I’m baaaack

this is what I looked like last time you saw me, wearing the Disney sweatshirt and trying to finish the book. Finished the book, all hell broke loose and I went into a total meltdown. Such a total meltdown of screaming (mostly on my own) that my voice is still husky. I’m pretty sure I didn’t do anything permanent — it almost felt like it was bleeding.
Here I am this morning, after I went to take today’s picture and saw the last one. Sally cut my bangs and I’m not sure what I think but what the hell. She was taking care of me, so I let her do what she wanted. She put makeup on me and fed me and comforted me.

So here’s the story and there are many parts to it. Maybe I’ll skip over the rough parts. The scoop is, as you know, I’m fighting off a really deep depression. Plus, when you’re working on finishing a book it’s called Deadline Dementia and you’re a physical and emotional mess.
Unfortunately my son chose that moment to not only freak about about the reality of his testing report (he has severe learning issues. He scores very high on verbal skills, reasoning, and something else — I forget. So his LD is mostly invisible unless he tries to write or do math. He’s got ADHD and is severely dyslexic but lots of other stuff as well. And he was facing it. Which god knows is hard, because we’ve always tried to pump him up and shield him from hurtful stuff. To make him feel he could do anything, not tell him all the things he can never do. He’d been to vocational rehab and he was freaking.
But he started attacking. No excuse for it. It was verbal and emotional abuse. And he has to stop it. But he couldn’t, the more I asked him to stop the more he went on, and I finally snapped and started screaming at him. First to get out of the room, and then I just kept screaming, and then I ran out of the house in my socks and drove to where Richie was.

Lots of drama. Lots of tears. Lots of apologies. Tentative re-ordering of things. Plans are being made.

The thing is, I’ve been so protective that in his entire life I’ve never even snapped at him. Definitely never yelled, and no one’s seen me freak out like that. It’s happened twice in my entire life. When I was in my mid-thirties, fighting with infertility, going through intense treatments, my toxic cousin got pregnant and decided to do a number on me. So I drove to a quiet place and screamed (because people told me it would release tension). It didn’t — it made me sick.

The second time I was in the car, parked in the driveway, and my sister had asked me to read my nephew’s autopsy report before she did. I did, and started screaming. You don’t need to know.

So it was bad. But the next day Sally took excellent care of me, Lani and Jenny took care of Refab, and my son apologized, which is amazing. But this isn’t about my son. We can talk about that another time — in the meantime let’s talk about me.
So the next day (yesterday) I rearranged my living room (shoved the piano, the couch around). When I finish I’ll take a photo so you can see. But it made me feel wonderful. Today I’m going to finish the cleaning in the living room (figure that’s the place I’ll be spending most of my time in), do a little in my bedroom and do some sewing (before seeing my shrink).
I’m finally realizing that the book was gone, and it was good. I’m still feeling depression drag at me — so many things I’m supposed to do that I don’t want to do (career stuff), such severe money problems. But one massive source of stress is gone. (Of course, because it was so late, I knew the next deadline would need to be adjusted. I asked, and the book is due on December 15th. I laughed).

But I’m getting to do all the things I refused to let myself do. Nest. Fix up my house. Decorate for Christmas (Alex is coming to help tomorrow).

So we’ve got a lot to talk about in the days. I still want to talk about Depression Lies and everything people talked about that day.
And I need to talk about anger, which frightens me (clearly). So that when I freak it’s way out of proportion and I don’t know how to deal with it.
I want to talk about children, in particular wounded children and how we deal with them, what helps and what doesn’t.

And most of all I want to talk about Christmas because I gotta tell you, I love it and always have. Don’t know why because we had our share of Christmas horrors. But I just freaking love Christmas. And I’m finding “found” presents and ones I can make and I really don’t have to work unless I want to until Christmas is over, because I have had A Hard Time. Officially.

So, lots to talk about. Crusie’s feeling better, Lani’s cat came home, things are falling into place. Maybe they’re falling into place for me too.

Once can only hope.

Krissie: All About You

Gird your loins, it’s now officially Advent (yesterday was the first Sunday), the other start to the Christmas holidays (I did manage to sneak an hour to go to church, then rushed out afterwards and went back to work). Fabulous ideas for Christmas presents yesterday. We’ll talk a lot about that this month, because I looooove Christmas.
BTW, I bought this t-shirt at Disneyland, on a wonderful day with Barbara Keiler, Jill Smith and others, after the RWA conference. (At least, I think that’s when I bought it). I just thought it would make me feel cozy and happy today, since that was a happy day. (And while those fools went on a scary ride I sat and waited and saw Anthony Head and his two daughters being escorted around the park).
Anyway, I got two things today. Finish the revisions and then gather loads of good will stuff. Enough to fill the back of Sally’s Subaru. Then tomorrow we take them, go shopping, and treat ourself (I want a pedicure). She’s taking care of me, bless her.
And I want/need to rearrange the living room. That’ll cheer me too.
Nothing but Good times ahead.

How about you?