Accidentversary

 July 31, 2017, I was driving home from work on I-44. Not my usual route, but I-40 was packed. Came up on May Ave and glanced in my rearview mirror. I saw the orange hood of a pickup that seemed too fucking close.

It was.

Hit me and crushed in the back of my first new vehicle. I don't remember the crash. Fuck knows I've tried because I hate not knowing. I remember the firefighters leaning me back in the driver's seat because they had to cut me out the back. Putting some cloth over my face to protect it. 

Then there was an ambulance ride with Mo. 

Tried to put a collar on me, but I told him I was claustrophobic.

Then I'm going through a CAT scan.

That's how I remember.

Flash segments. From one to the next to the next.

There was an off-duty EMT guy who apparently came on the scene first. Took his spare t-shirts to put behind my bleeding head. And I guess I told him how to unlock my phone so he could call the Honey. All of which happened, and I don't remember a lick of it.

I was in shock. 

Bad concussion.

Did a number on my body. 

So on and so forth.

This year, I was going to let the day slide. I'm acutely aware of it. But 9 years later?

I still think about it. 

And I'm glad I'm still here to spread love and snark. 

Damn Keto, anyway

The only way I lose ANY weight is keto. I've literally tried everything. Tae-Bo. Denise Austin. Limited calories. Limited sugar. Limited fat. Numerous mish-mash of diet and exercise. Ad nauseum.

Keto works. 

Fine. 

Adjusted my diet. Eating strict keto foods. On the bandwagon. Except...I can't have ice-cream. Buttered pecan ice-cream. The ice-cream of my soul. 

I thought...hey! Let's grab some fruit and try to make up for missing some of that sugar ice-creamy goodness. 

Green grapes.

Oh. My. Fuck.

I love those little bastards. 

The ones with tight surface tension? Almost crispy?

*makes embarrassing noise*

Those.

Except...when I weighed myself this week, I GAINED half a pound.

What the fuck? Gained???

I was...let's say willfully ignorant. Because I didn't check to see if these were on the good or naughty list. I didn't want to know.

Well. Now I know.

How dare those sweet little motherfuckers knock me out of ketosis?

How dare I gain a damn pound when I'm going without ice-cream. Buttered pecan, for those keeping track.

I mean...sure. I could cut back, maybe.

Instead of eating, say, five pounds in three days.

Having them for breakfast and lunch yesterday.

You know, be...moderate.

*laughs so hard I pulled something*

Alas, that is not me. Will never be me.

And so, sigh, I'm giving up the green round crispy goodness so I can fit into a cute new pair of white jeans I bought.

It's the fucking audacity.

I guess I'll live. 

Hit the ground...walking

Stumbled into the Sanctuary about five minutes ago. Have the "I've Got a Dream" song from Rapunzel in my head. Because of course I do. Sometimes, if I'm paying attention (hardly ever), my song loop pertains to my moment.

Tuesdays are rough for me. Have an intensive therapy that leaves me exhausted and not functioning as normal.

In bed on and off since one yesterday afternoon. Still not enough sleep to fit in a thimble. 

No rest for the wicked.

Book 7 of the Plot Twist series came to me. Dialogue, plot, and all the goodness. Except, I didn't have the werewithal to jot anything down. Relying on my memory right now.

Going to open OneNote and start a notebook for it. 

Still editing Ace. I love the story. Absolutely love it. And he's such a good foil for LA.

Readers bought books 1 and 2 of my Plot Twist series last Saturday. It was "The Morrigan"s actual release day. A reader asked me how long I expected the series to be. At least a dozen, was my answer. And likely, more than that. It IS hard because it's not a stand-alone. It's an arc. You've got to meet LA in the beginning to appreciate the character and her snail-like growth.

Still sitting in this chair like a shrimp. Still roasting my ass off in his fucking state. But, it's back to work as long as I can sit in this chair.

 

Mixed bag

I love book events. Well, my heart and soul do. My body hates them with a passion. My chronically in pain short ass loathes those damn chairs. My back and hips pay the price for the next five days or so. My body has a hangover that lasts nearly a week. I'm not sure how much longer I can do these events. I've already booked half a dozen of them for next year. We'll see how that goes. Toting everything around does a number on me. 

I need a little chart I can put on the front of my table.

Has:

Anxiety

Chronic pain

Fibro

ADHD

Proceed with caution.

I feel bad because the expectation from readers is usually the author stands as they come by. Sometimes, I simply can't. Or I'll stand and lean against the top of my pushed-in chair. But, being mostly deaf in my left ear doesn't help communication, either.

ON THE BRIGHT SIDE!

Have I mentioned I love readers? Like LOVE THEM??? There is nothing like engaging like-minded people, laughing, and having a wonderful conversation with them. I appreciate each and every person who stops by to say hi, grab a book, or simply make conversation.

You are my people! 🩷

Spent yesterday practically catatonic in my rocker recliner. Back and hips still pissed today. 

But, right now I'm sitting like a shrimp at my desk and eyeballing all the things I need to do.

Don't blame me...blame the chucklefuck fairy

I had a full day by 10:30 this morning.

Went to the wrong event.

Got lost in the parking garage--both walking and driving.

Nearly went ass-to-water as the toilet seat in the public bathroom was up because it was freshly cleaned.

Choked on the juice of a single grape.

Almost had to use my alarm to find my car in the WM parking lot. So much for parking close to the cart corral.

I'm home now for both your and my safety.

Taking 13 titles tomorrow because The Morrigan arrived yesterday!

Tomorrow is her release day, and I'm so excited. 

Already listed Ace as a preorder for eBooks. That's Plot Twist book 3 for those keeping track.

And another thing, what in the fuck-all is Netflix doing with "life style" shows? I want serial killers, cranky Scottish detectives, and ruthlessly aggressive thrillers.

Went through the "new" shows, and I was not remotely impressed.

Please stop.

Red Dirt Romance Eve

Spent the morning sorting and stacking my titles. Ordered "The Morrigan" in time to take Saturday for the book sale, but Amazon is going to Amazon. May or may not receive them tomorrow. Should have been here Wednesday.

Made four bundles of my "Canary" series. Pried Murphy's jaws off my books, post-it notes, and totes. He was in rare form. Currently passed out.

Readying myself for these is like going on vacation. I try to get everything I can done previously so I don't have to deal with it when I come back. Because I will be tossed.

Also, give it a week, and I'm off for Ft. Smith, Arkansas, August 15th. Doing all the hard work today. But Executive Dysfunction is coming through with bells. I didn't want to start. 

Not like there was a choice. 

As I grew more and more irritated with myself. 

Finally, literally, threw up my hands and did what I needed. 

It's hard to fight your brain, you know. 

Oh! Received a preorder for Book Me Romance so that is uber exciting. I've only had a few, and a lot of attendees say they prefer to see the books in person unless it's like an auto-buy.

For Saturday, I'll be using my display rack for the first time. 

I. Am. So. Fucking. Excited!

Should I be editing Ace? Starting on The Rabbit God? Editing through Warrior and the Sparrow? 

Indubitably. 

Am I?

What the opposite of indubitably?

Ooooo...actually dubitably. 

I have never used that word in my entire life. 

Probably won't start now.

But my ADHD is ADHDing today, also.

Always a party in the Sanctuary.

Cha cha forward...cha cha back

You ever feel like you're really getting somewhere, only to find out that maybe you weren't getting as far as you thought?

Yeah.

Stroll with me. 

My favorite episode of Doctor Who is "The Doctor's Wife." Hands down. No comparison. I love several episodes, but this one touched me.

The big voice, villain, in this case told The Doctor that The Doctor should fear him since he's killed several Time Lords.

And Matt Smith, as the beloved doctor replies, "Fear me. I killed them all."

It's not remotely easy pursuing a career late in life. Many wonderful authors out there are half my age. And the only thing I envy is the time they still have ahead of them.

My books stand. But it's easy to forget when I work six days a week and devote most of my time to the craft.

A woman asked me how long I'd been writing. I replied...on and off over 20 years. And she said, "You must know a lot of things."

Perhaps.

But what I know most of all is that I'm still writing. Will still be writing. 

No matter what.