Actual writing

Yes. I do still indulge in it. 🤣

Wrote on "The Gordons" yesterday, and I'm a bit over 37,000 words. Today is much of the same after I throw together a couple of reels. 

I'm at that in-between spot of still pushing out information about "Apollo and Hyacinthus", but will turn the corner the first of July and focus on "The Morrigan" and its impending publication. And for my darlings that preordered the second book, I love you with my soul. 

A bit about "The Morrigan." 

It's important to remember these deities are plucked from their lives and deposited in LA's yard. They are as put out as LA. Okay. Edit that. NO ONE is as put out as LA.

And the Morrigan is a death goddess. A Celtic warrior. A revered legend.

LA doesn't give a damn. She just rid herself of one deity to somehow be cursed with another?

The book is an unfolding. Two extremely stubborn and independent women who need to learn to work together to unravel the Morrigan's arrival and, LA hopes, her imminent departure.

It's rather like trying to stick two pieces of Velcro together that is all hooks. 

You're not getting anyfuckingwhere. And it's annoying as hell. 

LA Bennett is forty and completely over the interruptions and unapologetic jaunts through her life. 

Fortunately for me, she has a long road ahead of her.

I did it. Or...didn't do it...

I feel better about life in general when I have a purpose. A focus.

Thursday and Friday?

Instead of being steadfast in my social media posting, I spent two days basically with my cat, Murphy.

I have no regrets. 

He's happiest when I'm posted up in my rocker recliner, and he lays, like a toddler, over me.

Everyone needs a break.

Everyone. Needs. A. Break.

For maybe fifty or so years of my life, I didn't subscribe to that. I totally dismissed it.

Because the harder I worked, the better I felt about myself. 

I had purpose.

Thanks for those across the years that paid into telling me that, at every turn. 

I would finish writing a book.

Immediately start another. 

I would start cleaning and do so until

I felt as though I would throw up.

But...the PROGRESS...🖕

Progress is brilliant, don't get me wrong. But at what price? How much are you actually giving for that perception of yourself?

Too much, my darlings, too much.

I'm on Threads and understand, but am appalled at, all the authors overwhelmed and treading water. 

I see you.

I know you.

I AM you.

I suggest we all take a little break for mental health. Spend time alone. Spend time with your favorite person or people. Spend time with family. But spend time. Because you don't get to take that shit with you.

I'm also a DJ and sound mixer

Yes. You read that right. Because I should not be on my computer unsupervised. 

I'm making reels yesterday of my earlier works with first covers and updated ones. And I use Adobe Premiere Elements 2023. We bought that and Adobe Photoshop something or other at the same time at a big discount. Which is brilliant. That's where I put together my reels and add sound. Except, the audio catalog leaves a lot to be desired. It's, shall we say, limited.

Which, of course, sent my short ass on a digital road trip of where I could find royalty free music and use. Because I need much more than what was available.

I find myself in YouTube audioland. Epidemic Sound, to be exact. 

Being me, I start immediately cruising through genres and moods. Find one I like. Then, the kicker, ah...yes. Subscription land. $120 a year? Exsqueeze me? Baking powder?

The Honey is not going to go for that AT ALL. 

We're frugal here. I mean...frugal. 

Which puts me on the search for a code, deal, or godly intervention.

Finally found 1/2 off for a year! 🥳🎉Hell. Yes.

Shopped that to the Honey. And now I have Epidemic Sound at my fingertips.

Is it overwhelming? 

Fuck yes, it is. There are thousands of songs. But I can mix or snip or download the entire damn song. And that's exactly what I needed. Then save and import into my Adobe Video stuff.

Feeling pretty frosty yesterday. 

Until I wanted to pluck my eyes out and shove cotton in my ears. Stopped at that overstimulated feeling. 

Going to add these titles to my mental list of Crystal of all trades. Master of none. 😁

The first book I published back in 2005

This was the only title I've ever sat down and took time to parse out. I wanted something different than I saw. I wanted something with a draw to it.

Luckily for me, my parents believed in Reader's Digest. Man, do I love a Reader's Digest. I'd read it cover to cover. First, usually my interests. Then the funny pages as I came across them. Then the big story in the middle. And then the dregs of whatever I had left which was often better than what came previously.

I learned so much. And a lot of it stuck.

I read about the wonders of Virtual Reality and how it could help patients with a variety of ills. 

And it came to me...a virtual reality romance. 🥳🎉 

"Virtually Yours" published in 2005 with Whiskey Creek Press (now defunct, I believe). Start Publishing bought it and possibly two more ePublishers July 2014. 

But let's zip back to 2005 when the first book of what would become Inman Books LLC was published.

All the kudos to my cover artist, Jinger Hollowell who I still love dearly to this day. Talented woman still working in the arts. 

Being social aka do you want me to sharpen those bamboo to a point to shove under my fingernails?

I can be social. Sometimes, I even enjoy it. Especially in relation to writing and all its foibles. I'm there. But being social? On socials??? Every fucking day? 😕

In that wide world of TikTok, Insta, Threads, and FB? HAVING to post? 

meh

However, in lieu of me buying that fantastic weekly planner, my short ass filled in the days of the week with how many times I should post on which social. It's...daunting. 

I'm the one who will buck up to societal expectations. And this planner feels like one. So I need to get around that first. I want this to be another labor of love. Something I anticipate and enjoy doing. If I become bored, woe to my weekly planner. Woe, I tell ye.

It's having to come up with videos, I think, that is the most taxing. That's quite a bit of time for me. Making the graphics. Even using the ones I have. Setting the reel. Adding music. And to do that three times a week? 

When am I supposed to write? Which is priority one around here.

This, as all other things I've done as an author, will require time and patience to get into a rhythm. Maybe I can make all the reels on one day and load them on the specified day. Or something else will come to my not-quite-awake grey matter.

The Morrigan is going through edits. She will be available for ARCs the last week of June or possibly the first week of July. She will be available 8/1/26.

FFS. I'm off to figure out this incredibly annoying part of being an Indie Author/Publisher. 

Idiocy update

Ah, yes. When last I left you, I was on my way to Sam's. On a Saturday. In record-breaking heat. 😑

Imagine sweating through every pore you own whilst maneuvering in and out of five thousand people with shopping and flat carts. 

This sucked harder than I thought it would. Which is saying a fuck of a lot.

Misery. Pure misery. 

Came home, and the rest of the day is a blur. Don't want to point fingers, but this was ALL my fault.

Fridays, it is. FFS

Bought this AMAZING weekly planner. 

She is beautiful. Took her out of the plastic. 

You may cackle along with me.

Listen. I have a planner I put appts in and oftentimes check. 😬

But I needed something where I could write in my socials and when to post. Because ya girl is not on top of any of that. 

Oh. Is that the Insta icon? Guess I should post today. 

For another fuck's sake.

My ADHD ass does not have routines. I've attempted to do the same thing for a month and a half. STILL forget sometimes.

Antyway, I'm off to write on The Gordons and check to see if I want to alter any book covers. Do my little Canva check-in.

It's dreary and wonderful here. Hopefully a productive day.

The last week has worn me slick

Like. I see the appts in my planner. I acknowledge their existence. I gaze upon the ink I've spilled on different dates. But the doing is a large-ass commitment.

Told middle daughter I would take her to Sam's yesterday.

I. Forgot. 

Yeah. 

So guess who's going to Sam's today? In 96 degree heat? Instead of yesterday's 83?

Yes. My idiotic ass.

I kept thinking Thursday was Friday and Friday was Thursday, and I don't even remember Wednesday.
FFS

And it's mid-June? What the fuck of all fucks? Wasn't it March? For like two months? Now, it'll be August when I blink. Crazy shit.

Had to get that out there. Feel a bit better now.

Murphy the Great decided to wake up me up at 2:30 this morning and share my pillow. Cool beans. Frigid beans.

But...when Ginger Spice is comfy, he makes biscuits. Which will wake anybody out of a dead sleep, even when they're dreaming, and alert them of the issue. Thrice, this little shit got me. Mainly my neck. So sleep was spotty, at best.

Up at six, I fed the heathen at five, and straightaway to my office to put some shit in order. 

Because I thought I had all day, today, to focus on the writing. But I didn't. And guess what?

That worked out supremely well for me.

Inventoried my author copies. Checked on my new order. Made sure I had enough books, I think, for July 25th, August 1st, and August 15th.

Cleaned out my desk and one of my many bookshelves.

And who's merry ass was in the middle of all my papery goodness? 

Ah, yes. The Murph. 

I'll leave you with this picture of boy child.

While I get ready to leave for Sam's.