In related news...

 ...yesterday damn near killed me.

I count Wednesday as a work day. The only day I don't count is Tuesday because of Spravato. No worries. I usually work at least half a day Sunday and most of Saturday. This is my fix.

Antyway...did a WM pick up at seven in the morning. Because I made an appt at 8:15 for Urgent Care and removal of stitches. Then...eleven o'clock was eye appt and new glasses.

sigh

WM pick up went swimmingly. Rushed home. Put stuff up. By that time, I needed to change and go to Urgent Care. It's a mile away.

Lo and behold, when I arrived in a timely manner, I was told I could indeed, NOT, get my stitches taken out there. Some new policy within the last couple of months. So I took my annoyed self in some Thai lounge pants and Salem, Massachusetts "witch" shirt back to Mercy ER.

Front chick checked me in. 

Then another chickie took me back to weigh me.

Now...let's be clear. I weigh myself every Wednesday. It's my routine, at this point. I look at the woman, tell her I weighed myself that morning and gave her the number.

This heifer looks at me. The scale. Back at me. 

My reply? "No."

That shit will make the sun shine out of your ass. 

She was pissed I broke protocol. I thought it bad form to break out in dance, but I wanted to.

She huffs and takes my blood pressure.

Back out to the waiting room.

Keep in mind, I'm in the ER for the removal of four stitches. They didn't weigh my short ass coming in, so I thought it was extra stupid. You know...above and beyond regular stupid.

Finally land my ass on a hospital bed in the hallway. 

PA Wong comes over and checks out his handiwork. I ask him if he's about to undo it. He says he'll grab his stuff and be right back. 

Cool beans.

The man comes back, snips one stitch, and the skin tries to pull away. BECAUSE OF COURSE IT DOES.

I knew my body wasn't ready for stitch removal, cue the soreness and pain, but I believed 10 days was enough time blah blah blah.

It was not.

Sir put a steri-strip across where the first stitch was and advised me to come back on Sunday (two weeks since my idiotic move.)

Fine.

Then, as an afterthought, PA Wong tells the nurse to get me a thumb splint.

Here's where it gets dicey. 

I assumed...why why why???...this would be something small that wrapped around my stitches and kept my thumb immobile. 

It was indeed, not.

I'm salty as the ocean by this time. 

Seriously? This monstrosity? For my fucking thumb?

First of all, I feel like this is overkill.

Do I want my thumb to peel open like an overripe banana?

Absolutely not.

But, FFS. 

Second of all, this bastard hurts the massive bruise I have on said injured hand.

But do I wear the bitch? Yeah.

I ask the nurse whether I need to shower with it.

She says no. And I don't need to wear it to bed.

Pardon my finest fuck, then why am I wearing it?

I'm supposed to keep my thumb up, and I've been doing that.

The only time I'm probably not is when I sleep.

So I listened to Dr. Inman, myself, and wear it at night now. 

I'm typing right now with no issue, thus far, and my steri-strip is calling my thumb "home" so there hasn't been a huge necessity to put on the beastie. And it's HOT. My poor thumb is in a sauna.

Later, I get ready for my eye appt at 11. It's in one of the malls. Great. I get a map. I find my spot. I park. 

I'm protesting, loudly, at the shit fucking day I've had whilst I glare at my left hand. Yank open the first JC Penney door, it was the closest to the eye place, and then reach for the second. There's a young man behind me who probably heard my diatribe.

This soul looks at me and says, "JC Penney doesn't open until 11."

BECAUSE OF COURSE THEY FUCKING DON'T.

I sigh, turn around, eyeball where my car is parked and think it can't possibly be that far to the next entrance.

Have I stated previously that my impulsiveness is probably an issue?

Yeah.

Found the next exit. Finished my business.

Then hiked half a mile back to my fucking car. In the heat. With this stupid hand binder on.

By this time, I have a lovely headache at the base of my neck, I'm sweating like I think it's a fun thing to do, and I'm cranky as shit.

I am peopled out, there were like ELEVEN of them, salty as Morton's, and could not give a fuck less about anything. 

My body hates me, I'm brain dead, and Murphy has started drafting "Missing" flyers for me.

Today, my darlings, looks to be a bit better.

One hopes.

I have so much to do as far as work, and I'm having the executive dysfunction hilarity, and I need to just do it.

Nike...don't sue me.

It's the last thing I need.

Organization...bahaha

I strive to be organized. Like...STRIVE. This is the first year I've used a planner for every month. And wrote shit down. At fifty-four. 

I know some of it is ADHD. It's actually in the description. Because I have the best of intentions, but I forget. A lot. Like it's a hereditary trait my DNA must hold onto, or I will wither up and die.

I have a PA now. Love her. She helps, thank goodness. She has a sheet with goals for every month and whatnot. Forced me to jot down the wants and needs of my business in black and white. Did I do it for the next eight months?

Of course I did.

It's feast or famine with me.

Sent out a test newsletter a couple days ago. 

Told you about my shitshow with Email Octopus.

But when I went to upload my actual newsletter, it took me five minutes.

I need everyone to breathe deeply with me and say a couple of "ohms" because fuck.

Now. I think I was supposed to let my PA do all of that.

I think I needed to only find the platform, and I don't fucking know what.

🤷

Then give her snips and snaps I wanted in there.

I mocked the whole thing up in Canva, loved it, and uploaded it.😬

I'm a basic bitch with this stuff. It's clean and easy-to-read. Nothing dazzling or glittery. I'd rather save my time for writing. But even having a PA is confusing. She does my reels, ARC management, and newsletter management. 

Unfortunately, my PA dictionary is missing.

What does this MEAN?

I used to be a control freak. Now...I'm a little better. But I want my imprint all over everything. I want my readers to know it's me, and I put the effort in.

Is anything ever easy with me?

Stay tuned for an upcoming blog, "I think the fuck not."

Email Octopus

Ah. My newsletter "platform" which I've been on for the past three fucking hours trying to send a simple test newsletter.

I am cranky as hell and completely over it.

Next time, the heavens help me, I hope to reduce that time by half. 

Needed to take some anxiety pills as I'm teetering on the rails over here. 

Some of it may be the ADHD. But that site is NOT intuitive. NONE OF IT.

And I'm struggling to find air as I'm clicking all the POS words on the side and trying to find something to help.

Tried Google. Tried the site's source of info and help.

None for me.

Finally fucked around and found out. But Christ on a fruit newton, I'm exhausted.

Makes me want to hop off the keto train and self-soothe with ice-cream, or cupcakes, or a tasty cheeseburger WITH the bun.

sigh

Sometimes this life is a bit rough. 

Woe to the two other tasks I specifically needed to do today.

Kuzko and I are in mourning.😭

Bottomless tool box

I'm like a little sponge. I follow several writer groups on FB. I read articles almost daily. I want to KNOW all about the book business. What works. What doesn't. What do readers like/want/hate?

My newest addition to my writer tool box is listening to some guy read my manuscript back to me. It's slow as shit. Around 25 pages an hour. But it's also thorough. I can't listen to audiobooks because they're: 1. too slow 2. I got distracted and almost ran into ditch

So listening to this male is a little bit like death at first, but he grows on you. I follow along visually since that's my type of learning.

If you're not sure of yours, look it up. This knowledge is invaluable.

I don't remember verbal instructions. Don't give a damn if there's only three. They'll be lost in the shuffle of my grey matter.

ahem

Threw together a newsletter.

Okay. Labored over what to put, how to put it, where to put, etc. Because I will overthink a blade of grass, given the opportunity.

Hoping that goes over well. Quite a few readers entrusted me with their email and WANT to hear about my wonderful world of make-believe.

Bless them all.

I'm also contemplating adding book art? fan art? whatever the fuck it's called art to my books. I actually have an artist I can use, and I want them all to be a certain style. 

Am I juggling too many plates?

Is there ever a time when I'm not?

Guys! I have a PA, and I'm still plowing through all these new things. It's exciting and daunting and makes my wee mind explode, in a mostly good way.

Next up, book boxes and maybe kickstarters...to be continued.

Over the weekend, I got in a knife fight.

With myself. We both won. I cut the fuckforsaken industrial strength zip tie, and I went to the ER for four stitches in my left hand.

Should have opened the POS item with scissors and not my pocket knife. I called it a pocket knife until my wife posted this on FB:

Hers is on the left. Mine is on the right. With my O- still on there.😶

Because...I don't play.

Today has been getting over my Spravato lag. It's been getting worse every Wednesday. Exhausted would be putting it mildly. But the stuff works, so every Tuesday it is.

Going to fine tune "Dream Walker" again. 

You really can edit your book all the time and STILL find something to improve.

Daunting, I know.

Finished editing "Ace" and set it up for my preorder. Had my PA send out the ARC forms. 

September looks to slow down with appts (August has been ridiculous), but it's full of birthdays. 🥳🎉

And also, healing from my knife fight. 🗡

Busy

It's so cute because the Honey describes my busy time as summer. The most book events and whatnot. But if you know me and the birthdays of my family, you would see that September-December kicks my ass every year.

We have three granddaughters and the Honey's bday in September.

All the kids (adults) in October. Wedding anniversary.

Thanksgiving with the whole crew.

Christmas.

Then, I take the deepest of breaths and begin again.

Oh. Did I mention I'll release two more of the Plot Twist series books and a short story in an anthology? Plus, editing three books. 

Writing helps keep the depression away. Does absolutely nothing for my anxiety, though. 🤔😂

Had the yearly boob squish today. Hated it. 

I'd like to know exactly when someone thought it was a good idea to compress my boob, and THEN turn the fucking knob three times to make sure she doesn't escape. 🤨

Yeah. That boob isn't going anywhere. I fear for my nipple, at this point, though.

And still, I say go have their pictures taken. Better safe than any other option.

MEN and WOMEN.

Okay. Off to clean the hacienda a bit. Having a granddaughter bday party tomorrow, and she's spending the night. 🥰

If I haven't birthed you or occupied the same room while you were birthed, do not expect such niceties.

Wear shoes, and don't lay on the floor. 😆

Book Events--not all about the immediate sales

Let's be honest. We want an agent to contact US about representation, and we want to sell ALL THE BOOKS at book events. 

Because=human.

But let's take a look at what a book event can do:

1. I gave out every one of my business cards I had. Probably around 150 at the last event.

2. Sales at the event.

3. At the previous event, there were six book orders placed within that week.

4. After this last event, my traffic, on site, went up 3%. While that may not sound like much, it's a literal ton compared to daily activity.

5. Putting your name out there. Being visible to readers.

6. Letting readers have a face to a name.

Some tables at these events are a bit costly. Authors need to weigh several variables before they blow $200-$500 on a one-day event.

Number of tickets sold.

Expected crowd number.

Type of book event.

Author recommendations. (This is huge.) Word of mouth works everywhere.

Repeat attendee for said event.

There are a lot more events popping up in smaller cities which are imperative to study. If you can get in on the inaugural event, you can have that foothold to create relationships and build strong author to author and author to reader bonds.

Love the familiar faces on both sides.

Travel.

The farthest I travel now is Ft. Smith. I can do about three hours in a car. Then I need to be horizontal with a pharmacy of pills within my reach. 

I love doing shows in Oklahoma. 

Local people are incredibly supportive.

All in all, if you've a book or two out, you may want to consider investing in a book event. It'll invest in you.

BEHOLD!

 Guys! GUYS!

Okay, we all know I'm an office toy addict. Love me some post-it notes, multi-color pens, and other hyphenated good things.

But, you guys, I ordered myself...an embosser.

She is beautiful. 🥲

Came in yesterday but didn't see it until today. Broke that bad girl out and immediately fucked up the nearest paper to me.

It reads:

From the library of (on top)

Inman Books (bottom)

And my fucking logo in the middle!!!

This little piece of metal brought a tear to my eye. 

Another step. Another milestone. Another office toy.

I always wanted to be a library when I grew up. 💖

Man. Next Tuesday has big shoes to fill.

Sunday? Monday?

Let's do the time warp again.

It's Sunday, but I got home after eight last night after my three-hour drive and was catatonic. Body today is being a right bitch.

All worth it.

Every single ache, pain, and spasm.

Book Me Romance is always special to me. I love the other authors and cherish all the readers. They are the sweetest souls. I have a new bracelet from a fantastic reader. I have stickers and business cards from other authors. 

I sold more than a few books.

It was simply the best time.

(If you want to attend 2027, please get your tickets early. Ashley always sells out.)

We had 423 people this year. Ashley is going for 600 next year.

I sold out two titles. Gave away all my gold bags and business cards. 

I'm already building a cart in Vista Print.

A last minute add-on brought people to my table. So doubling that order.

And while it was a romance book event, I always bring different things. My two most popular titles were "Canary" and "Apollo and Hyacinthus". 

Quite a few readers were into mythology and found the premise fresh. Also, everyone loved my covers. That I made. That are not AI. 

And one reader in the group specifically asked if there were any queer authors or queer characters.

I was the only one who responded, and her group buzzed by my table. 

It was awesome.

All in all, I can't wait for next year. I've already signed up, of course. 

The only difference from now on, is I think I will only take 10 titles instead of 13. 

🤭

MODERATION

Preorders and newsletters

Here I go again...testing my own boundaries.

I would say I'm "old school", but I'm that and simply old.

What I love about the written word is that it's not only a young person's game. Writers can jump in at any point in time and give it a go.

Or...keep going.

I've had 3 preorders. 

These are a massive gift to the unsure. 

What?

You want my book?

Sight unseen???

Do you need a kidney? Cornea? Name it.

The amount of excitement I feel when getting a preorder is truly unholy. 

There's a small dance and hip wiggle.

Because EXCITEMENT!

And I ride that dopamine high the entire day.

And for things I fucked up the first time but now will have help with...AKA...someone else in charge--is newsletters.

I had the best intentions.

And I tried, people.

I tried.

But I quite sucked.

And that's fine.

Recognition is the first step. Stepping away is the second. I've laid the groundwork for my PA to pop in and throw those bad boys together.

Gathering sigs now for the list.

And that's another thing.

You're giving me your email? To learn more about me and my books?

Is this...is this heaven?

I'm constantly surprised and delighted by reader response. 

I live for it.

It is the one constant that keeps me going. 

Would I still write? I would.

But readers make my world go 'round.

Excited for this Saturday and Book Me Romance. 

Dopamine...sweet dopamine.

Do you remember the time?

Nope. Sure be cool if I did.

As I've progressed normally through time...I've AGED...I have aged. My body, once able to sling a hydraulic arm wherever I wanted it, has problems opening the mayo jar. My short-term memory is absolute shit. I won't be giving any embarrassing details. Um, let's just say I can put a microwave plate in for forty-five seconds, look down where it was, and wonder if I actually got one out.

I make lists now. And I mean even for basic shit. Need to clean Murphy's water fountain? List. Drugs at WM? List. Gas in the car? List. 

These are the foundation to keep parts of my life together. 

When I remember to make them...

The only thing I don't make lists for is usually my writing. If it's an editing day, great. Writing? Great. Making covers and talking shit to myself? Splendid.

However, anything related to writing gets the "list" treatment.

Make up sparkle bags today. List. Make up pre-order bags. List. Print and laminate a couple of papers. List.

I've started taking a cheat sheet, elevator pitches, with me when I attend a book event. Because, given the chance, I'll tell you how the evil scorpion guy in "Canary" glows and why. 

But ask me what I had for dinner yesterday...

On that same keto note, we went out to Bubba's 33 Sunday.

It was phenomenal. First time in. I would usually grab a double burger or chicken fried steak/chicken. Because yes, please.

This time? I searched over the menu beforehand and picked the "California chicken." 

Let me show the prettiness.

Dear lordt. It was so good I bought another entree of the same to bring home to eat later.

And weigh-in?

HA! Didn't gain anything. Lost a couple pounds. 

The reason I quit keto the first time was lack of variety. And while I get in food ruts, thanks ADHD, when I shift...it's the whole she-bang.

Now, I try to find foods that will fit in my keto budget. I didn't get the garden rice beneath the chicken breast. Ate steamed broccoli.

Now, if only my body would get the memo.

Making up the gold bags today after a WM drug run and Sam's. 

See?

They're on my list.

Gearing up for Book Me Romance 2026

I needed rubber bands the other day. Okay, one rubber band. My middle child child's fan had two stripped screws, tiny bastards, that refused to budge. Read online I could put a rubber band over it, and then use a screwdriver to loosen. I couldn't find my BAG of rubber bands. I thought I had some on my desk. I did not. Then, thought maybe in my Sanctuary closet.

The Sanctuary closet is special, as in it holds everything I don't have another place for. Plus, all my books are in there.

Have a rolling book cart from my last job, with two top rows and two bottom, split in the middle. That's on the left. Then, shelves on the right. High shelves I need a stepladder to reach.

I brailed all the usual places. No such luck.

And I, in my ADHD madness at this point, decided fuck it I'm cleaning out the Sanctuary closet.

I will remind all how short-sighted I sometimes am. 

Yeah. Probably take me two or three hours.

Or, not so much. 

Three days later, and now all I need to do is dust and vacuum. No, um, specific timeframe for that. 

heh

That leads me to the absolute wonderness of a clean closet, all my books in clear totes, a new fucking wagon to put all my shit in at conferences and events, and a sense of accomplishment that will last three or four days, max.

Broke down enough Amazon boxes I'm almost ashamed.

I usually take sparkly bags with me to events with my business card, stickers, and an old-school library book due date slip.

I think I finally gave away all 500 of them. The last at Red Dirt Romance Book Event.

I toyed with not having these little gems but decided to do so, anyway.

Gold bags coming in tomorrow.

Bought over 100 of those 24K gold eye mask things you put under your eyes. New stickers. 

I'll be throwing those together Tuesday or Wednesday.

Hard to believe I'll be driving to Ft. Smith this Friday afternoon.

I don't think the cord between Murphy and me stretches that far.

First night we've been apart.

And he still is insecure about some stuff.

Send me good thoughts! And some to Murphy!

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.

Last night's event

Sold a few books. 

Brought:

Apollo and Hyacinthus

The Portrait

Please Come Again

Chimera

Over Her Head

Sold all but one title. And it was the book people looked at the most: The Portrait.

Crazy.

Also, gave out 80 business cards, which I love. Met a lovely neighbor table person, Liliana Provencial. She's easy to adore.

All in all, I give it a 7.

What I took in was a few things I'm going to use this coming Saturday, August 1st, at Red Dirt Romance Book Event. 

Will have a sign up for newsletter and ARC readers. Giveaway basket. Some reviews for my books. 

Favorite things from last night:

"They're all so different!"  Talking about my variety of titles.

"I love Greek mythology."  Let me introduce you to my Plot Twist series.

"This sounds so good!" Referring to each title at different points in the evening.

"Are you on Kindle?"  Yes. I surely am.

Also learned:

Never doing another night event.

Never doing another second floor event.

BLESS the young man who helped carry my seven totes and cart up and down the damn steps. May karma give you a massive kiss. You were the sweetest soul.

Today will be working on graphics and verbiage for my ailing website. Needs a good revamp. And I need to keep up with it. 

Panic Mode

 From 1-5, I'm like a 2.5 right now. 

Guthrie tomorrow.

Red Dirt Romance 8/1/26

Ft. Smith and Book Me Romance 8/15/26

Feeling good about tomorrow other than I've never had an event with them before. 

Excited about all of these.

But then...I question myself. Like, more than usual.

Before I break down my breakdown...let me say this: Popular titles will change at each destination and each year. Don't think one title will be the one to RULE THEM ALL. (Man, I love Tolkien.)

Unless it's obviously the whipped cream on your cocoa.

Chimera, an Intersex Romance, is a particular niche, I suppose. At one event, it was the most popular title. Other times, it's Canary, an Urban Fantasy. 

And did I tell you I'm hawking my wares at Smut Palooza 2026?

Mostly C'ann Inman titles, of course. All the Erotic Romance.

Do I need to capitalize genres and subgenres? NO. But I like it.

And I believe that I've previously stated that once I get a ball rolling, that bitch gathers speed like it's covered in grease.

I've stickered all my "display only" titles. Added the genre to some. Tricked out my display rack. Man, to see a lot of my titles all gathered in one place? 

Holy shit.

Amazing.

On the need to do list right now:

Decide on how many for each title for Guthrie and the Red Dirt Romance Book Event.

I ordered more of my Erotic Romance books for Book Me Romance 2026.

What I don't sell then, I'll roll over into Smutville.

Need gold ribbon.

Maybe make a basket?

Panic mode on a cool 3 now.

It's about that time

Book event season!

Let me guide you:

STRESS

Pulling all my shit together

Making more shit

Making sure I have all my shit

EVENT DAY

ALL THE FUN!

Then I will need to lay down for three days.

Finally pulled all my books together for Saturday's event.

Good news? Going back to the pink hair soon. 

And I'll have FIVE titles with me!

Apollo and Hyacinthus--mythological retelling

Chimera--LGBTQIA2S+

Over Her Head--contemporary romance

Please Come Again--erotic romance

The Portrait--romantasy

Bringing a little bit o' everything.

Probably would have squeezed in "Dream Walker", but it may clash with the romance motif. 🤔

My PA is making wonderful reels and posting on my socials. I heart her.

I'm working on my short story, editing Ace, and losing my mind.

Welcome to my Thursday.

To be or not to be...NOT "to be"

Okay y'all. Ya girl is editing Ace, writing a short story for an anthology, and generally roasting her ass off.

While editing Ace, I took out my crutch words. You know the ones. They add nothing to the narrative, but you're obscenely fond of them. I've taken "just" out of my vocabulary and simply won't add it anywhere in my books now. I use "actually" a lot. That gets the axe. "That". "Had". "Then". "So". 

I also stumbled upon a new favorite: to be. Are they, or aren't they? FFS

I'm not even going to delve into all the "to be"s I homicided in book 3 of my Plot Twist series. But it took a long damn minute to do.

You see, we evolve. And that means when we can't reach the old standbys...we fill in something else. 

Word of warning:  You can create crutch words or phrases--no matter where you are in your writing career. 

Embarrassing as fuck. But human nature.

When I'm in the flow, I write to create. Adding in chapter numbers comes in later. I did that today. I'm sure some have a fancy spreadsheet with all the info. I use a colored index card to write down chapter number and page. Quick, easy, and doable for me.

These books came so quickly that the first edit is akin to gazing upon an unattractive infant. It's appearance is not quite what you expected, but you love it anyway.

Story is solid. Spelling in on-point. But correcting usage, homonyms, and grammar mistakes take time. 

Don't get me wrong. Not knocking it. I love it. I feel as though I've created a deep bond with these characters, and I absolutely revel in it.

My literary fam.

Am I procrastinating working on both the editing and writing by typing up this blog?

I should know better...

...but I don't.

Couldn't fall asleep last night. Too much creativity. Too many ideas. If I hadn't taken my nocturnal cocktail, I simply would've gotten up and continued the writing and adjacent items. But I did. No midnight typing for me.

But, The Murphenator woke me at 2:08 wanting to share my pillow. Which is cool, of course, until he starts to make biscuits on my cheek. Then it is decidedly less than frosty.

I get up and give him his can of wet food and attempt to fall back asleep.

*insert hysterical laughter*

Rolled out of bed around 2:30. Cleaned the kitchen and adjourned to the Sanctuary to write a bit on my ideas. Stayed up until 6:00. Rolled back out of bed at 9:30. 

Back in the Sanctuary to prepare for this Saturday, could have said Friday before--I know🙄, and the Romance Book Festival in Guthrie, Oklahoma. 

Uber excited.

Not uber excited about taking on a flight of stairs. 

I firmly believe that every building should have an access to second floors and basements and whatnot for handicapped people. Isn't that a law?

Antyway, had to check with a publisher to make sure I only signed up for one story in their many anthologies. I simply don't trust myself, at this point.

Lo and behold, thank you Lordt, that's it. 

And that's one of the unholy reasons I couldn't sleep last night. 

Idea after idea. Ended up using my "Notes" on my phone which I hate. Talk to text.

Because I think I'm enunciating clearly while it thinks I talk like Reba McEntire. 

(No offense, woman. I love your twang.) 

And oh shit! I forgot to tell you, I haven't gotten to it a second time yet for editing, but there's either book 4 or 5 in the Plot Twist series which has a word in it that I can't figure out for the life of me. Like yeah, I typed that. But obviously didn't mean whatever the blue fuck was put down. 😶

That's a problem for Tomorrow Crystal. 

Today Crystal has enough going on.

The voices need to chill.

I hear dialogue in my head. I have odd notions come to me all hours of the day. Last night, I misspelled a single word and now have an idea for another book.

But holy shit balls. The voices? They are on blast.

Before I wrote full-time, I would have to parse the voices. When I didn't have time, I would nail the doors shut and hope to fuck they didn't break. Because I'm a full immersion type chickie. When I'm in...I'm IN.

And when I open the door to my creativity and don't try to actively block it, the voices have a rave.

I'm editing two books right now and have all sorts of ideas and, wouldn't you know it, the last sentence of  "The Rabbit God". In true Crystal form, the book I haven't started writing yet.

I've tried to put the feral folks in my Mind Cabin (more of a chalet) and have them calm the fuck down. But voices are raised. Confetti is flying. And those obnoxious little horn screamer things are at full volume.

I should put a sedative in the water, shouldn't I?

New office toy!

Writing-my first love. Gathering everything related to writing-my second love.

I've expounded on my hundreds of pens, thousands of post-it notes, and numerous notebooks and planners. Received the comb binding machine for Christmas. Have my own fucking laminator!

And now, I present the Niimbot B1:

Isn't she beautiful? *sigh*

Now, all I need is Excalibur and a unicorn to take over the world. 

😁

Different kind of morning

Not too different. Did a pick up for drugs and food at WM. Then had to unpack and put that shit up. Thought I was having heatstroke. Had to sit down for a bit. I run so damn hot. I have it on 67 in my car. I have two fans on me right now. One is two feet from my person. 

Antyway...I usually blog first. Then post, when I remember and feel like it. That segues into my writing. Did I tell you I finished "The Gordons"? Yes, indeedt. I did. My mind is picking apart "The Rabbit God" as I type this. And when I try to fall asleep. And when I'm cooking. And in the shower. 

And it's delicious. All excited about a book that won't be out until April.

But isn't that how all authors are or should be? Every book is a new piece of the sum of us. The discovery is crucial to the process. 

I could compare it to baking a cake. Or fixing a car. Or open-heart surgery.

But let's be honest here. Even if you're a plotster, and I both envy and forgive you, you still don't have every sentence typed out as a guideline to go by. Something can still surprise you. 

Surprises in the aforementioned tasks would not be a good thing. In writing? It's exhilrating. 

PA already made my first graphic. And it's so cool and different from my offerings. I'm a basic bitch, I suppose. 

This Bill Nye meme gives me life. Because I'm a nerdy author like that.

My new daily routine will consist of writing, editing, and only making graphics when I want to.🥳🎉

With that being said, I'm off to edit "The Morrigan" for the fifth time. 

Oh, and also story build for a short Christmas story published by ASB Publishing. 

Possibly work on another short story for another anthology next year. 

FFS...I need another fan.

O to the K then

I have a PA! 😭

My short ass is so happy. Spent all morning sending graphics she can access to make content and post. 

And took an hour after writing that sentence to work out more issues.

I really don't know how this is going to go, but I have high hopes. And I love this woman to death. That's a comfort. She's in the business. She knows the business. Lordt, let her take care of my business. 

By the way, I suck at networking. Started thinking about this as I have three book events basically three weekends in a row. I will probably talk a bit to the person beside me, but I'm too damn awkward to have it go much further than that.

I can people, but it's not my preference until it has to do with books. And even with that, my battery ebbs pretty quickly. 

The hype is real. 

Surrounded by other authors and readers?

Oh my fuck. Major dopamine hit. It's the fucking most magical place--wherever that may be. You can feel it in the air. There's a lot of chatter and laughter. A light mood with good people.

I AM looking forward to all the upcoming events.

Now. And there's always a "now." I need to ready my books, swag, and important papers. One of the lesser-fun sides of this life. But I always feel accomplished when I'm finished.

NOT...right before.

Let there be a PA!

I've groused on the regular about how publishing has changed in 20 years, and expectations are different. I wrote. They edited and published. But...I never got to choose my cover. I would send the book out for review and keep up with small other things.

Now? I write, edit, publish. I create graphics, reels, and book covers. I have complete control. I love it. But it's a fucking lot. And I desperately need someone to manage ARCs and socials. Because my overworked short ass mightily sucks at it.

And...I may get one as early as this coming week! 

I am so excited I can barely deal with myself. It would take so much pressure off me. I can create. She can market. 

Is this...is this author heaven?

In other written news, I finished (didn't finish) the Gordons. Let me 'splain. 

I have roughly 5000 more words to write to round it out about 70,000 words. 

Cool beans.

But this last 5000 will be the bridge between books 5 and 6. And, of course, it's all new and shiny and I'm SO EXCITED!

That may fade as I'm forced to do serious research on a couple characters. Which, I don't mind. But it makes my brain hurt sometimes. And with another sleepless night under the belt I never wear, it's going to be a challenge? And you know what we all say when we face a new challenge, right???

I'm going to do that shit, but I will probably complain on here about it.