And it goes on and on and on...

Have that song in my head.  It's also appropriate.

Finished Mercenary Girl AKA "Canary" on Saturday with 73,169 words.  Letting it sit for around a week before I even glance at it again.  Now it's Tuesday, and I'm making notes on DD, which is the second book in the series.  There are scenes coming to me.  Dialogue, of course.  Because I can't simply sit and watch a show or read a book when my mind is engaged elsewhere.  

I promised myself long ago I wouldn't close the floodgates if I ever had the opportunity to leave them open.  Writing is what I'm happiest doing.  Yes, it's full-time all the time.  Yes, it keeps me awake and wakes me early.  Yes, I will drift off in mid-conversation while either of us is talking because I hear other things in my head.  It's the best.

I told the Honey the other day that if I were born in a different time, I would have been one of those women locked up in Bellevue Hospital with a piece of chalk happy as clam to write on the walls while I listened to the voices in my head.  I've no doubt I would have ended up somewhere neurodivergent people were placed.

Now I'm off to make more notes and maybe even jot down a beginning to the continuation of MG's story.  She thinks she only has a few ends to tie up, but that's never quite the case, is it?  Because the story only darkens farther until she's not even sure there was any light to begin with.

Always writing*

It's about that time

I always know for certain it's time to wrap up a book when I start on another.  MG is around 5000-7000 out, but I'm already making notes and writing scenes for DD which is MG:  Book 2.  It's not a conscious thought.  I simply switch gears and begin incorporating story into scenes and dialogues I'll use.

Bad news?  I was doing that while trying to fall asleep last night.  Because of course I was.  When the good stuff comes, you don't stop it.  You let it flow.  It's like floating in a warm bath full of sparkles and relaxing music all around.  As hard as my brain was working, it's completely relaxing.  It's literally in the flow.  You're not riding the wave.  You ARE the wave.

DD is much darker.  You can't completely destroy one's reality and think they'll bounce back like those damn rubbery balls.  Resilience is one thing.  Actuality is another.  Our girl is the reigning champion of pulling herself up.  But she doesn't realize there's been a foot on her neck the entire time.

Don't want to leave my girl in limbo.  Give her a little happiness before I show her what she's really up against.  Wish us luck.

Always writing*

Monday? Again??

About 1500 words shy of 70,000 words on Mercenary Girl.  That's my good news.  Several things to do this week.  Will I finish this book one?  This month, certainly.  This week?  Eh.  Even if I "finish", I'll still have editing.  And while MG marinates?  Either "Incantation" or MG Book 2.  Or...the erotic romance bouncing around in my head right now.  Or two of the three.  🤔

Funny thing is that I'm not writing any sex scenes right now.  Usually I have a romance I'm playing with.  I've been focused on finishing MG since "Chimera."  Apparently I need to have a steady diet of both.  I've been writing short erotic fan fiction in a group I'm in on FB.  😁  They appreciate my efforts.  🥳🎉

That's me.  Today.  About to make that smoothie, change my clothes, and begin the day.  Hope you have a good one!

Always writing*

...or editing

It's been a week

 Last two days=hell.

I've been trying to take Mercenary Girl over 60,000 words since Monday.  Finally stumbled over, barely, yesterday.  I'm now looking at finishing around 75,000 words total.  I've a major scene to write today with a twist.  Love those.  👀  I'd like to finish at 65,000 today, if my everything can keep up.  

Starting earlier than usual.  Sipping on my energizing smoothie.  Already have both fans on.  Going to be another hot one.  Rather looking forward to the actual cool down.  Sunday looks quite lovely.

Here's my view when I'm writing:

I love it beyond words.  💖

Always writing*

Feeling myself

I believe we've discussed my slight obsession with post-it notes.  My desk is currently filled with them from mouse pad all the way to the end of my desk.  I use the pink ones to keep my word count for MG.  I write the title, date, start word count, and finished word count.  

August 1st, I was sitting at 32,723 words.  It's August 14th, and I'm starting at 56,482 today.  Hope to break 60,000.  Pretty sure I will.  Another 15,000-20,000 after that, and I should be finished with this first book of three.

Consistency.

Some days I want to write so bad, and I only eke out a couple thousand words.  Yesterday started slow, and I was displeased.  Finally picked up in the afternoon, and I finished with 4,041 for the day.  Like to think I'll manage that today.

This is my current love affair.  As an author, you fall in love with your works over and over again.  I suppose that's why some authors write multiple works at once.  I do no more than three, but I usually only stick with two.  In all fairness, I focus on one with one in the background.  But being in love is everything.  That's what writing is.  Being in love.  It's intoxicating.  

I'll toddle back to MG.  She's having a bit of a moment right now, and I'm enjoying every second of it.

Always writing*    

Blue Dot

I was not born with an inner compass.  I can turn myself around in a Kohl's.  When I lose myself in the city, I pull up Maps and blue dot myself.  As in, oh!  Crystal is here.  No word on how many times that has happened.  Though I do pull over when I do this.

Yesterday, it was a bit cooler in the morning, and I decided to take a walk in the neighborhood.  My usual is basically a straight line there and back twice.  About a 5K.  But this is Oklahoma, and by God, let's have construction falling out of our asses.  EVEN in my neighborhood.  😡

I decide to turn right instead of going straight into the workers only to discover that I can't turn right or left at the end of that block.  It only curves around to the right.  A lot.  Of curves.  I come out not knowing where in the hell I'm located.  I look left.  Right.  Forward.  Check out street signs.  Squint.

Ah.  Two blocks down.  That's my main road.  I hadn't walked long enough.  I turn left.  Music is playing.  I'm seeing roads I've never seen before.  I continue.  THEN...I get excited.  I have something in me that kicks in which I will call my "wild hair."  When this happens, everything else goes to hell.  Mostly, my common sense.  

I think I'm on the road where there is this really neat little body of water that snakes through our housing place.  Keep in mind, I have to walk back the way I came.  I have forgotten this sweet little tidbit at this point in time.

And...I was right!  Since I'm there, I may as well walk up that little hill to the main road and then turn around.  Sure.  Great.  Fantastic.

Oh.  Indeed.

Moderation and I are on nodding terms.  I don't remember walking halfway down on the way there.  I will, however, remember walking UP most the way home.  My hips, today, are also being kind enough to remind me.

Would I do it again?  I'm actually looking at Friday for another jaunt.  My wild hair and I are excited.

Always writing*

...with my sore-ass hips

Killing someone today

Twice, when I've killed characters, I've known when I created them.  Name.  Description.  Then the realization.  Oh, shit.  This character is going to die.

Today is a hell of a lot more delicate.  The scene is massive.  

There will be a huge fight scene, character introductions, and a major character death.  I fucking feel like a writer for Marvel™.

Currently eating my granola and yogurt, trying to pump myself up to ruin my day.  Because as much as readers will mourn characters who pass, it's the writers who will carry that grief for a lifetime.  We created them.  Loved them.  They will always be a part of us.  

"Kill your darlings."

Fucking awesome.  Pass me the damn Kleenex.

Always writing*

...and killing people today, I guess.

Feeling accomplished

 Wanted to write two major scenes on Mercenary Girl.  Wrote one.  BUT...wrote 5,091 words.

🥳🎉

Feeling pretty damn froggy, my friends.  Makes for an incredibly happy Sunday and happy me.

Hope yours has gone good, as well.

Always writing*

Busy Sunday

 Been awake since six.  Up since six-thirty.  That's borderline heinous in my world.  Not a morning person, but I've roughly a million things to do today, and I'm excited about all of it.

Two major scenes for Mercenary Girl.  One will gut me.  The other will soothe my soul.  Such is the way of the writing world.  

Sundays have always been productive writing days for me.  Something about the low-key pace, I think.  Drinking my smoothie with energizer powder.  Let's be realistic here.  I'll need all the help I can get.  But I feel it's going to be a good one.

My desk is lit up.  Fans blowing.  Desktop covered with pastel post-it notes.  Feels like home.

Always writing*

...when the smoothie kicks in

Simba

 I love this little heathen.  He has a long backstory, but suffice it to say he has my heart.  In case you wonder who keeps me company when I'm writing.

Taken today, in my office, the Sanctuary.

Always writing*

...and admiring Simba

I'm working

I take my writing incredibly seriously.  I work on it from eight in the morning until four or five in the evening.  I do break for smoothies and meals.  I blog every few days.  I need to pick up Twitter again.  I query.  I research.  I make notes.  I work.

Writing is serious.  Four to five thousand words is a good day.  Three thousand is average.  Anything less is a bit disappointing.  Unless I've made up for it in notes or queries.

Yes.  I did retire from an eight-to-five job.  But I have another one.  A more important one.  I'm not watching Netflix or Amazon Prime, eating bonbons, and lounging in my pajamas.  

I'm not sure if any other person, besides a writer, understands the complexity and immersion of being one.  Probably a good thing.  Also a lonely thing.  

I'll be in my Sanctuary over here.  Writing books.  Having adventures.  Weaving words and worlds.  Living in my head and yours.  This is everything.  

Shhhhh...I'm working.

Always writing*

Empathy

I'm an empath.  It's the reason I can't watch game shows or reality TV.  My stress and anxiety is palpable because I absorb what the people are feeling.  I didn't last one season of "Grey's Anatomy" because I sobbed every damn episode, and it wore me down.  The episode Bailey cried?  Yep.  Color me done.

Would love to watch "John Wick" because I love action movies and Keanu Reeves is brilliant.  But...*spoiler*...they kill the dog.  I never got over that.  I would have to skip over that part.  Can't seem to make myself watch it.

However...it helps me as an author.

I'm in each scene.  I AM the scene.  Every action and reaction.  Each character's happiness, fear, hope, and uncertainty.  I need to feel it to make the reader feel it.  Sometimes I need to step away from the laptop.  Push back away from the heavier emotions.  I've made myself cry more than once.  Laugh more than once.  Been so mad at a character I wanted to meet them outside to throw hands.  😑 😄  

That's the life.  The investment.  I can't imagine wanting to do anything else.  I don't want to.  

Going to sit down with my Mercenary Girl this morning.  Writing a scene that occurs later in the book.  Not pretty.  But we'll make it.

Always writing*