Writing weather

Rainy weather is best for writing. Gloomy, overcast, with rain driving at my Sanctuary window makes me a happy author.

For once, the Oklahoma weather delivered.

We're supposed to have rainy weather through Sunday morning. 🥳

I'm around a third of the way through "Canary: Out of the Shadows" and hope to be about half finished by the end of the weekend.

I told you--lofty goals. 

Saturday, Middle Daughter and heathen granddaughters are coming up. That's a no-writing day. I'll get back to it on Sunday.

Something about the darkness. Room only lit by a couple of lamps. Fairy lights atop my desk. Both monitors glowing in anticipation. The sound of rain hitting the window. Slippers on. 

The vibe is vibing.

The author is writing.

Nice.

I had myself tested.

I like to take my own temperature. Sometimes it gets lost in the day-to-day minutiae and daily rote. Because life is so damn busy. I had four appts this last damn week, and I couldn't tell you the calendar day, or day of the week, but I could tell you what appt it was.

Such is my life.

In all the wonderfulness of my physical and mental journey, I felt as though I missed something. Or perhaps, instead, something was missed.

I tell this horrible story to my therapists because it highlights how neurodivergent boys were treated back in the early eighties.

I moved in fifth grade to a different elementary and had the good fortune to be seated next to the most hyperactive, out-of-control, FUNNIEST, redheaded young man named Scott Schmidlkofer. He was wired for sound. When he became a bit much too handle, he went out in the hall---in a big refrigerator box. 😡

Horrifying, yes?

Honestly, there are still MILES to go for all the sexes.

But females weren't diagnosed. I didn't know what ADD, ADHD, or Autism was. I barely knew, in the mid-nineties through the two thousands, raising my own kids.

However, I've always been different. I embrace it now. I have for quite some time. I don't think like other people. Or react. Could chalk it up to some mental or physical factors. But still. But...still... 

WHAT IS GOING ON?

So I had myself tested. 😊😌  

You don't know until you know.

Now I know.

I have ADHD Combined. Combined type ADHD is the most common manifestation of ADHD, including symptoms of both inattentive type and hyperactive-impulsive type.

Ta-da! 🥳

Currently dealing with research overload because I want to know all about it and how to deal and find others with it and how they deal and...and...and...😂

The one thing I'm trying hard NOT to do is pastflect. Try to see if I could bend the past if I'd only known. 

It does me no good, and it's bothersome, guys. It's...bothersome.

Now I know. And you know. And whoever knows. All good.

Always writing*

...and being neurodivergent...

Eliciting emotions

Elicit: to draw forth into existence.

What a word. What a feeling.

It's my job, of course. It's what writers strive to do, or at least good writers, in my opinion. I write for myself and the satisfaction of it, but I want to grab as many people as I can to bring them along into the story. That's my purpose. 

Come with me. Feel with me. Be with me.

I want you to feel pleasure, relief, and angst. Love. Betrayal. The dark and the light. 

Readers live a million lives through the eyes of others. 

Making it happen is a massive responsibility.

"Meh writing" is a travesty. We've all had books that we've cracked open the cover with anticipation and then chunked it at the nearest wall.

It's heartbreaking and all-around disappointment. Leaves a bad taste in our mouth, and we're not soon over it.

Makes us a bit book-shy.

But when we crack open a book and our hearts and minds are filled with a story which takes us on an adventure we don't want to end?

It fills us up in ways even we aren't aware.

I strive to make readers laugh aloud. Cry. Curse. Reread the sexy parts. I want full immersion. Sink into it. Full saturation.

I'm either writing a massacre today or a long-awaited sex scene. Both will be deeply emotional and satisfying. 

Loss? Love?

Whichever I choose, I'll put my heart and soul into it.

It's no less than any writer should do.

Always writing*

...I think I'm killing people today...  

 

 

Rewired

Trauma changes you. Trite but true. 

I used to write chronologically, before my house burned to the ground December 9, 2006.

Also, funny thing (not haha-in this case), I can't remember dates for shit. Also, it was a Saturday.

Before HF (house fire), my story would unfold for me. Like carefully taking apart an origami animal. I had just signed a contract for my four-book Elemental Guardian Series. I only finished two before the ashes. I believe I stated I would release one every three months but changed it to four, at the last minute.

After the HF? I still had two to write. Quickly.

I've stated previously I'm a mood writer. 

My world, and my children's, fell apart. We lost everything, including the person I was with at the time, and their son. So...half our family. And also, someone I considered family.

Devastating would be putting it mildly.

When I tried to write again...I started at the beginning, but my Muse didn't appear to agree with the same ol' methodology. Scenes came to me out of order. Dialogue would pop into my head whenever the hell it wanted, and I adjusted. Wasn't easy. I didn't like it.

Anyone who knows me knows I don't turn a corner quickly. But I learned if I didn't jot what came to me down, it would disappear, and that was the biggest loss.  

I cranked out Wind Goddess on time, and I feel bad to this day I don't remember writing bits of it. I believe I was still in shock and dealing with trauma for several months after the event. Honestly, there are moments, even now, that trigger me with simple things such as smelling wood burning.

I wrote Earth Goddess as I settled back into myself. Accepted the new normal. 

I love that book. 

Even now, I'll start a book and think I'll continue chronologically, but it never happens. I suppose that event rewired my brain in some way which is incredibly interesting and wholly terrifying. We are at the mercy of our grey matter. Thankfully mine is still giving. We simply like to play a bit of hide-and-seek and Clue and Guess What I Know and You Don't? 😂  

Be easy with yourself. Even small things can throw you off for a bit. 

Like right now. I understand trees are helping me breathe, but they are NOT helping me breathe. They are being incredibly hateful, and we are not friends. 

Dendron non grata

Always writing*

...except for last week, which was Spring Break, and I had two of my heathen granddaughters, and Sweet Baby Jesus...they gave this Mimi a run for her money...

Let me share a thing or two or more than I should...

...because what would be new? 😂

My only sister is five years younger than I am. We played Barbies ALL THE TIME. But, it was more than that. Because we played, "Dolls of our Lives."

Cue the music.

That's right, readers.

We grew up on Kim and Shane. Patch and Kayla. Bo and Hope. And BY GOD, our Barbies would go through the same shit, if not worse. 

Sis liked to hang hers by their limbs in mortal danger. They always had a broken something or other. I was about the drama. 

You did what? When? With who?

I like to think I sharpened my storytelling teeth on those poor dolls who didn't stand a rat's ass chance of finding happiness. 

Until I let them.

Oh...the POWAH! 🗲🗲🗲

But my favorite soap duo...ever...was Mason and Mary from "Santa Barbara."

Mason was a horrible lawyer with no scruples whatsoever.

Mary was a nun.

A. Fucking. Nun.

👏👏👏

Mason was absolutely corruptingly delicious. This man was toxic with a capital "T", but he fell for Mary and exposed his softer side.

I would record their dialogue on cassette only to listen to it again and again. The cadence. The banter. I strive for this perfection in my scenes. Dialogue, to me, is foreplay. It sets the tone between characters in a most important way. Words spoken are completely telling.

Couple things: I played Barbie's until I was twelve. Maybe older. It's all kind of blurry. We actually sat them down for a group photo once. Wish I still had it.

If you don't know what a cassette is, Google it. 😑

It's important you know where you came from. 💖

Always writing*

...working on OOS scenes today...OKC Thunder later

Dietary doings

My short ass has gained and lost weight so many times, it's not remotely funny. Over decades. I was pregnant three years in a row. Then I lost all that weight. Gained it back. Repeat ad nauseum.

I've tried, and successfully used: step aerobics, Tae-Bo, The Firm, Denise Austin, walking, and aerobics.

But something major would inevitably happen, and I would put the weight back on. Oh. Had an ulcer once. Lost weight with that, too. Mustn't forget that. Had a friend ask me what diet I was on. Told her the ulcer diet.

sigh

Lost hundred pounds for my hip surgery. Retired and gained sixty of it back. I've now lost fifty of that. 

My poor body.

I started Keto last September. Not being a moderate person, I, of course, went cold turkey. I stopped my comfort food of sourdough toast and skimmed milk for breakfast. 😭

I began to experiment with eggs. (I have to have a hot breakfast.)

Then I added sausage to that. I'm finally happy with where I'm at there. Fills me up. Tastes good. 

Woot! 🥳

Other meals can be...difficult.

I like meat. No hardship. Sometimes I'll make shrimp fajitas in the air fryer and eat on that for a couple of days. Sometimes I'll repeat breakfast. Chicken. Tacos. Meatloaf. 

Secret is to use pork panko crumbs for the meatloaf and low-no carb tortillas for the tacos. You wouldn't believe the offerings out there now. 

I've checked out books from the local library for research. Follow some groups on Facebook. 

Sometimes I get discouraged, but I'm fitting into pants I've not seen in a bit and buying more in a size that makes me smile. 

Keto works for me, and I see it continue to work. It's something I can do long-term. My lab numbers, cholesterol and whatnot, are good. No worries there.

It hasn't helped my chronic pain, but I'll take what I can get. 😌

If you're still searching for something that works for you, don't give up. There are a million combinations of foods and diets. Your body is unique. Don't try to make it do something it doesn't want to. Dip a toe. See if you can work within the parameters. Tweak it a bit. Keep looking for your fit.

Good luck!

Crystal*

Am I a real writer now???

Imposter syndrome:  "Imposter syndrome (IS) is a behavioral health phenomenon described as self-doubt of intellect, skills, or accomplishments among high-achieving individuals." This definition is straight from the NIH (National Institutes of Health).

I've always heard the term and have known the basic definition BUT didn't know it was among "high-achieving individuals" supposedly.

I'm fairly open with my mental health. Good days. Bad. Weird. It's whatever. And I don't struggle with imposter syndrome often...but when I DO...ugh.

"They" (other authors):

More fans

More books published

More connections

Farther along than I am

All over the news

More sales

FILL IN THE BLANK

What do I do when this happens?

First...I take a deep breath. In through the nose...out through the mouth. About five of these bad boys. 

I remind myself that every journey is not the same. This is important. I've been through it. I'm still working through it. I'm proud of myself. Periodt.

I love the connections I have. I'll make more over time through my work and other book conferences and conventions.

EVERYONE is somewhere different on their author journey. This is a good reminder.

I am where I'm supposed to be right now. I'm a firm believer in this one. Keeps me grounded and thankful.

It's easy to be downtrodden when you think, perhaps, you've not lived up to some expectation in your head or compare yourself to someone else's highlights. Part of that is human nature. But we have the capacity to remind ourselves how amazing we truly are. We can look back at OUR journey and marvel at accomplishments. We have every right to have pride in what we can and are capable of. Don't dismiss yourself out of hand. 

Don't dismiss yourself at all. 💖

Am I a real writer now? 

I was a real writer the moment I tapped key to monitor with intention back in 2005. Now? I simply need to remind myself of it.

Crystal*