I knew it!

Here my short little ass decided to upload "The Gordons" as a preorder. Cool beans.

That entails:

Bowker and assigning an ISBN to both the eBook and paperback.

Running the title through Kindle Create.

Uploading kpf to Kindle for eBook.

Uploading docx to Kindle for paperback.

Filling out all the keywords and categories and everything else they could think of

Designing the book flat for the title

Great.

But remember how I bitched about my crazy little self assigning like four different titles to "The Gordons"? Because I thought about making it my fourth book but then decided on fifth. 

Did I play in my iCloud for several minutes finding the right document?

Fuck yes, I did.

Only to turn around and do the same when it came to uploading the paperback.

FFS

My wee eyes are burning. And it's not even 11:30 am.

Sorry, Mike. It's the damn truth.

Still need to work on my holiday short story. 

Finish up my newsletter.

Start on the Rabbit God.

Encourage this shitshow of a body to produce some energy.

Adrenaline?

Um...a spark of something?

Lick a battery?

It's been FOUR days!

Time flies when life is beating that ass.

Don't even remember the weekend. Monday and Tuesday? Watched the Heathens. Middle child's daughters. Oh, but I love them. LeeLee and AJ.

The goings on:

Watching the heathens.

They’re playing with dolls.

LeeLee apparently has a baby in her family.

LeeLee’s baby: “take your butt home.”

LeeLee: “those were her first words!”

Mimi nearly needed an inhaler. I posted not a couple days earlier about not talking to me while I'm in a waiting room. It was perfect timing.

Ordered three or four books from Amazon.

Excited beyond measure about this one:

A Dictionary of Color Combinations

It will be a reference book, of course.

Also, The Book of Japanese Folklore.

Irish Fairy Tales and Folklore.

Oh, four.

The Well-Spoken Thesaurus.

I cannot wait to dive inside and learn more. My ADHD is having a little fiesta.

Tomorrow is writing, of course. I've taken a bit of time off for myself.

Time to get back to it.

Always.

You had one job, Amazon...

...and you've failed spectacularly.

My spoiled ginger son, Murphy, has a certain flavor wet food for the AM and one for the PM. I try to order ahead of time so there is no lapse. Because, heavens forbid. 🙄

But, the change of season has Mr. Man eating two cans in the AM. I was not prepared!

I immediately hop on the 'zon because I guess it's an odd flavor to stock in the stores??? and order more.

great

Except...suddenly, they're changing delivery dates, and I do the math and am not happy.

FFS

It's a 24 pack of Fancy Feast. 

Too much to ask.

Now, I'm having to do an early morning pick up at a WM that is NOT the closest. 

Because...Murphy.

Chicken boy is practically under my office chair, as I type. Looking like the adorable heathen he is.

I'm having a wonderful case of executive dysfunction right now. 

That "task paralysis" part.

And I hate it, quite honestly. 

I swear, my brain likes playing chicken with itself.

Do I need to get on it?

Damn it, Spike!

I can relate.

There's got to be a manual override, right?

RIGHT???

Well, well, well...

...happy Thursday or whatever this is.

I try to blog at least every other day. Ya girl has been slacking.

So let's catch up, shall we?

Off to the doc today with GI issues. Bloating. Miserable. Burping. Nauseous. All the fun.

Ethan thinks it's a stomach ulcer (My second! 🥳) and started me on a pill I take four times a day. Cool beans. I'll conveniently fit that in with the three one-week pill planners I have for morning, mid, and evening.

I also have a trigger finger.

Okay. I've heard of trigger finger but never knew what it was. Months ago, I noticed my right middle finger would hitch and then pop back. I assumed it was from overuse. But nay, my good people, stupid finger won't slide into the stupid sheath so I'm stuck with a finger who has had better days.

Good/bad news?

Apparently it's an easy surgery!

Pardon me.

Fuck me.

WHAT???

Yep. Sure. Ethan explained how they go into the finger and clip the nerve, and I'm doing the squirm in my chair because it's a hell of a visual. 

I asked if they did anything with my wrist. He said no. Only the finger.

sigh

Not like I use these bastards to write books or anything. 

My face

So woot for that referral. 

FFS

I want to Google but I so don't.

Kinda like when I had my hip replacement. 

Give me the animated version!

In other, Crystal's body is fucked up, news, I received my handicap placard.

I'm still sitting with this. 

Back in the damn day, I was a work horse. A hoss. Give me the task, I'd bust through it.

From lifting heavy hydraulic arms to working sixty to seventy-two hour weeks to barely sleeping because the kids were in half-day school. 

I did that shit.

And I did it well.

Now, my body is a little bitch most times.

Chronic pain is bullshit. 

Surprise pain is bullshit.

The regular pain is bullshit.

Sharp.

Achy.

Stabby.

Throbbing.

Burning.

PAIN...is bullshit.

Hurts my legs to walk for too long. And for a woman who used to be on her feet in steel-toed shoes for twelve hours at a time, I'm trying to reconcile myself.

Does it help?

Fuck, yes.

I used the placard one day for a WM trip that was too small to have a pickup. Saved my blessed legs and back. Started hurting after I crawled back into my car AFTER the trip. Not too bad during. (I lean on carts.)

Do I feel ten kinds of horrible for having to use it?
Yeah.

Like I somehow need to suffer to prove my fucking disability. 

I suffer enough.

Now.

If the rest of me would calm the fuck down...

Release dates for 2027 titles

Progress.

I've actually made some.

How lovely.

Am I using this day, as I stated several blogs ago, for rest?

Sure am not.

Gotta take the better days when I have them.

Working on my erotic short story for an ASB Publishing anthology coming out for Christmas. Sorting Rabbit God out in my wee grey matter. Editing Macaria for a December release. The eBook will be a dollar cheaper on preorder than publishing date. 

And as I sent October goals to my PA, I actually looked at them.

I mean...really looked.

👀

JANUARY--WARRIOR AND THE SPARROW-ROMANTASY

FEBRUARY--THE GORDONS-PLOT TWIST BK 5

MARCH--FIRE GODDESS-ELEMENTAL GUARDIAN SERIES BK 1

APRIL--THE RABBIT GOD-PLOT TWIST BK 6

MAY--WATER GODDESS-ELEM GUAR BK2

JULY--WIND GODDESS-ELEM GUAR BK 3

AUGUST--GEORGE SAINT-PLOT TWIST BK7

SEPTEMBER--EARTH GODDESS ELEM GUAR BK 4

The Elemental Guardian series needs editing. It was heavily edited 20 years ago by a professional. I'll still comb through it with the fine tooth. The four books are the entire series.

Warrior and the Sparrow will also be edited. Same for it. But, you can always edit. Always.

Do I enjoy it?

Fuck no.

Does the book become better for it?

Always.

Looks like I've tracked off the end of the year. I'm not sure about that, yet.

We all know I have three gdaughter bdays in September. October is the kids' bdays. Then...hello holidays!

And I can flex release dates except for the first two titles of 2027 in my Plot Twist series. I'll make sure they are on time and in the best shape.

Gave myself a bit of time between "The Rabbit God" and "George Saint".

You just never KNOW what may be around the corner.

Do I want to start George now?

YES!

But I need to sit my ass down and think of the chronology. I can't go willy-nilly into it.

I really want to, though.

My chaotic nature is craving it.

Because LA Bennett thought she'd been through it. But wait until Mayor George Saint presents her a problem.

Nothing much can rattle our battle-tested LA.

But this will.

Ace

Ace is an overabundantly egocentric Yoruba deity. The third book in my Plot Twist series is his story. Because this man doesn't believe for one second that LA is there to help him. He assures her it's the other way around.

Between his highness and a kitchen renovation, LA is about to lose what's left of her sense of humor, her mind, and her so-called sanity. Juggling both takes a lot more out of our anti-heroine than she expected. Ace refuses to divulge anything that could help. 

Rhagus takes the lead as LA struggles with new revelations and old scars that never truly healed.

Ace is available now.

*Cue Mary Tyler Moore theme*

For you younglings, it has the line "We're going to make it after all."

I might.

After I slogged through yesterday and got a bit more sleep, I feel like I may be able to write a little today and be productive.

For some reason, the past four or five days have had me down, physically and mentally.

Maybe I'm on the upswing.

Please let me be on the upswing.

Maybe I've pressured myself too much.

Maybe that's my default.

Maybe...🙄

Let me be blunt

Fuck this day. It's not even 9:30 in the AM, and I'm pretty much done with it.

Murphy has decided I don't need any more than four hours of sleep at one time. He was up my ass this morning so many times, I finally decided to get up.

Went to open the blinds and stepped in his vomit. On my bare heel. It was nasty as fuck-all.

Huge headache.

Sinuses blaring.

Keep forgetting I have an appt at 1. Finally wrote a big "1" on my left hand to remind myself.

Had to "verify" my fucking identity on Kindle Direct, or they would shut all my shit down.

So, fuck them, too.

It was a got damn process.

Between two devices and zero patience.

Then, I go online to fill out a form for something I need, and it asks for an email I don't have and won't go to the next page, because I guess that shit is unacceptable. So fuck me.

Oh, and if I don't get the email, then everything is snail mail. 

Difficulty after difficulty.

Ya girl woke up with a sore body and no sense of humor. 

I'm at my limit at a salty 9:35 am.

It's got to get better, right???

Edit, edit, and edit some more

Editing is a never-ending event. You literally must call it when you've run out of time for publication. One of my favorite ways to edit now...having a voice read it back to me.

This also has its bullshit.

Grim ACED. Like the card. I twitch every time.

Character names are often slaughtered.

It likes to spell out some words if they're too short. Example: Nyx. It says N-Y-X every fucking time. 

Why, phantom voice?

Enunciates the "f" word like a dream. 

And I love how it phonetically tackles non-English words.

Also, these eyes don't always catch "here" when I meant "her".

It makes me question comma and period placement.

It's great and annoying all wrapped into one.

Today's fun-filled work day?

Editing "The Gordons", which is full of so much action that needs to be properly conveyed. Also, it needs to be fleshed out a bit.

Will I start on Rabbit God anytime soon?

🤫

Don't ruin the moment.

Do I have to?

Nothing will bring the petulant child out in me quicker than having to talk on the phone. Never mind we had the LONG cord when I was younger that you could stretch across three rooms to talk to your friends. No. Never mind that shit.

Never mind the fact I was on that phone for hours at some times.

We are friends no longer.

Ironic as my phone holds my life in its little rectangular self.

And, like many others, I use my phone all the time.

But not to actually speak to another person.

Received a letter and needed to make a call this morning.

I attempted to bypass this horrific necessity by visiting the website. Chatted with Mike. Nope. That man gave me a phone number I needed to call.

Really, Mike?

🤨

If there is a plus side, it was that Victoria, who answered the phone, helped immensely. 

But, with all my acronyms, sometimes it's fucking hard to actually tap in the number. Much less, have a conversation with reasonable acumen.

Sometimes I'll save up phone calls like I'm a squirrel hoarding acorns, and do the deeds one after the other. 

Purge them sequentially. 

Then exhale after the last, like I had a life-saving reprieve. 

Dramatic?

Probably.

Necessary?

Indubitably.

There are things, as I age, that I specifically will butt up against and refuse. If you don't need my weight at the doc's office, you're not getting it. If something is damaged in my grocery pick-up, it's being returned. 

Less patience. A little more understanding.

Could be worse.

Sunday assortment

Had Middle Child and the heathens up yesterday for the girls' bdays. One was 9-5. The other is 9-30. And the day we celebrated? Baby gbaby's bday...9-26.

You could wring my short ass out, at this point. 

I didn't count Wednesday or Saturday as writing days because I knew I couldn't pull it off. Too many things on my plates.

Friday was Costco, and you know I can't pick up writing after I've picked something else up first.

Some days, I truly cannot stand myself. 😂

And now, here we are on Sunday.

My first newsletter is being released today. I'm excited but nervous. We all know it's not my forte. 

And then the major decision is...what do I work on today? 🤔

Not even going to list all the possibilities.

I simply know I cannot let this day go to waste in an authorly way.

Didn't I specifically state, probably four or five posts, that Sunday was to be a day of rest? 

And now we know why Crystal can't have nice things or Sundays off.

My rice cakes have been debauched

I'm constantly and consistently looking for new keto food. Even an assortment of meat grows old. Found some Chocolate Caramel Protein Mini Rice Cakes on WM site. Had to be shipped, but that's just fine.

Normal people would look at the serving size: 16 little cakes, and be perfectly content to eat that and be done.

Not me.

They're good.

Really good.

I ate a four serving bag in two days.

Pretty sure I knocked myself out of ketosis.

And if THAT didn't do it...

These sons of bitches at Target did me in. 

Spent all day yesterday with middle child. Target. Sam's. Cheddar's (restaurant). 

Should have planned better.

Been craving something pumpkiny for a long minute.

I succumbed. 

Three bags of these. Not huge bags. Doesn't matter.

Serving size? 5, I think.

🤨

That's cute.

The devil's in the mini rice cakes. Little bit of sweet glaze on top, and I was cooked. 

Best thing for me to do is walk away. Instead...I walked toward. sigh

Even something as innocent as rice poofs thrown together can sidetrack you. 

It was a great detour, though.

Scattershot

Me. Today.

Can't quite pull my head out of my ass enough to start anything. Or rejoin in progress. I hate feeling twitchy. 

Do I have items to work on?

BAHAHAHAHAHA

Yeah. A few.

I am Chandler.

My "items" number in the 6-7 region on the numerical scale.

And yet...

*DEEP BREATH*

Fuck this. Someone or a few someones are being worked on today. 

1. The Rabbit God (probably not as I'm zipping back through The Gordons before I begin this one)

2. Polishing DD (maybe not--highly immersive--don't know if I have that in me)

3. Christmas short story (higher probability--left them after the first sex scene--we rejoin in progress)

4. Editing The Gordons (small likelihood--getting into some serious shit over there)

5. Dusting the Sanctuary (I crack myself up--hard pass)

6. Work on newsletter (maybe?)

7. Working on October goals (FFS...October?)

How's it going?

Oh. You know.

Left my glasses on the kitchen table after I ate breakfast and then wondered why they weren't where they were supposed to be in the living room.

Mentally screwed up my time for my LIVE hour for Inked in Words. I'm actually on at 3:00 PM CST.

FFS

Can't decide whether I want to: write on Christmas short story, continue polishing DD,  start on The Rabbit God, or let my ADHD have its way and do nothing until 3:00 PM.

Spinning my wheels in the mud. 

Not a fan.

Currently at my desk. Watching Murphy plot the deaths of all those on the other side of his window.

sigh

Occupational travel

The farthest away I'll drive is Ft. Smith. That's three hoursish. My body is in full rebellion, by that point. That really narrows down the book events I can attend and hawk my wares and brilliant personality. 

I'll be doing a virtual signing this Saturday at 4:00 pm CST in the group: The Well Read Women. It's a private group, so you would need to join before viewing the debacle known as my hour.

It's nice that I can stay in my office with a pillow in my back and chat about books and the wonder of words. Do I enjoy reader interactions?

SO SO much.

But I'm grateful for an outlet that gives me access to likeminded people.

Also, I've figured out that my authorly bucket list includes using all 100 ISBNs before I leave this realm. That's only like 50 more titles.

Piece of cake.

Two or three a year for the next twenty years.

So doable.

Give me my delusions.

But then catch me in 20 years.

We'll see who's laughing then, Leo.

🖕

Is it fall yet?

It most certainly isn't. The Sanctuary, my office, is hotter than the rest of the house. So, when it's near 100 outside, it's probably 85 in here, even though the house is set to 72. Makes for short days in front of the computer.

If I can only hold on until Monday...

WM pick up this morning. Sam's will be at 11. Because, um, that's when they let you order a rotisserie chicken with your pick up. I'm all about that life.

Other news?

Check out my Macaria proof.

OH. MY. FUCK.

So...I just go over to the 'zon and type in "Macaria", you know, like normal people. And guess what popped up?

Breast enhancer and vaginal tightening cream.

I am...fuck, I don't know what I am. 

Apparently I need to type in "Macaria book" FFS.

Note to myself and y'all. 

Antyway...as promised:

I love this cover. It seems impeccably right for her.

Check out LA Bennett's new best friend on the right side.

Have I already stated how much I love this damn series? How I am in love with the characters and their stories?

I always wondered how JD Robb remembered all the details in her "In Death" series. But really? When you create a place and its people, they're as real to you as someone sitting on your couch.

And I have MAJOR memory issues. The frustration is real, guys.

But I KNOW these characters. Their habits. Their jobs. Their personalities. 

And it's like coming home.

Lost Monday and Tuesday

Being in chronic pain is bullshit. 

Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.

Picked up my glasses Monday. Grabbed a pair of jeans from Cato's. Arrived home and didn't want to take another step.

Ye olde body was done.

By noon. On a fucking Monday.

Plans for my short story?

Blew up.

You can lead a mind and body to a book, but you can't make them fucking write it. 

Tuesday.

I never count because of Spravato.

Which leads me to today.

It's Wednesday, right?

argh

I feel like I haven't accomplished anything this week, and that weighs on me. Annoys me. Harshes my mellow.

Mid-week plans: write on my short story. 

That's about it.

Thank God I'm not performing brain surgery.

ISBNs and making records and publishing...OH MY!

Finished with the edits for "Macaria." Comfortable enough to pop in the preorder at the 'zon.  Once again, wish there were better outlets. 

ugh

But now comes the screen carousel.

Did I tell y'all I bought 100 ISBNs? I so badly wish they were physical, and I could roll around in them.

Too much?

heh

Antyway, I'm adding "Macaria" as a preorder. Will have to tie her to an ISBN first. Then play over at the 'zon by adding her as a new ebook and paperback. The paperback, of course, will be a draft. The ebook will be a preorder.

One of the first times I added a title with an ISBN, I wasn't exactly sure what the fuck I was doing. Did it stop me? Of course it didn't. 

All I could do was mess up. *shrug*

But, it's fairly intuitive. I muddled through and have since become more comfortable with the process.

But onto another cluster of mine.

So, my friends, I wrote the first five books of this series about six weeks each. I was flying. And I was going to make "The Gordons" the fourth book, but then I had the idea to actually make "Macaria" the fourth book and "The Gordons" the fifth.

Which is great, for others, because I still have "Macaria" saved as "The Gordons" in my documents. Then "Mac and Medi" is actually "The Gordons."

Have I changed this cluster?

I certainly have not.

Because, wait for it, I will screw myself up and add shit where it does NOT need to be added. I'm scared to mess with the system, y'all. 

My weird system.

My "I'm uploading 'The Gordons' for 'Macaria' today because if I do something different, we're all going to get an unpleasant surprise" system.

Who cares about the critical names of documents, anyway?

FFS

Off to create another book in the eyes of the Library of Congress. Add that heifer to the 'zon. Absolutely twig when I go to create "The Gordons", and I've forgotten what I've already done.

FFS

Home for the foreseeable future

I, hopefully, have nowhere to go until next Tuesday. 

You know what my favorite is? Typing shit like that and then realizing I have to go back to the stupid mall to ask questions about my stupid glasses bill and pick up my stupid glasses.

FFS

Editing "Macaria," and I realize that this book is the first one I forsook chapter breaks in lieu of writing down the story. I wrote five books in six months in this series. Adding them now. 

Wondering how I'll treat "The Rabbit God." Will be interesting.

Overcast here. Thank the heavens!!! Back-building some rain in, and I'm excited. Good day to write. And this is me...wanting two things at once.

Edit Macaria.

Write on The Rabbit God.

This is why I'm convinced I assimilated my twin in the womb. We both have strong opinions.

Next week is work on my Christmas short story for a Christmas anthology. 

It's funny. You think you have all the time in the world, but the world knows better.
Plan if you can.

Straight up hilarious coming from me.

Most times, mine blow up in the absolute most horrible ways.

And yet, I endeavor.

Inked in Words Virtual Signing next Saturday. I believe my hour starts at 5:00 pm.

I'll be chatting for an hour or so about writing and my books. Feel free to pop in with questions or anything on your mind.

I really want this bat outfit...

Labor Day

It's funny. I work for other places, I have Labor Day off. I work for myself. Here I am in front of the computer about to tear it up.

The irony.

I did take yesterday off. It was surreal but nice. I think I need to designate Sunday as a rest day. Except, if I get a really good idea. Or one of several other things.

Then, all bets are off.

I only have one appt this week. Have to take Mom to her long-distance standing med appt. Like 6 hours of the day. So Tuesday (never count this day) and Wednesday are booked. 

Remember how I bought that nifty pretty weekly planner thing to write down when I should post on socials?

Yeah. That went south quickly. 😬

I'm now using its magnificentness to write down what I need to do for the week.

This week is: Edit Macaria, write The Rabbit God, and polish another book.

Because my neurodivergent brain must have options. The only one I don't feel like doing is writing "The Rabbit God." This is a problem for two reasons.

1. I need to write the damn thing.

2. I want to write the book after that one in the series.

Here's the dealio...I want to write the book. I have it in my head, chilling. With all the other cool ideas. But the book after that is comedic as fuck, and you know I like to wallow in that shit. Because LA Bennett is taken by surprise. 

As in, all the other surprises, up until now, she could swallow. This one...not so much. Nor does she want to.

Man, I love her.

I switched "Macaria" and "The Gordons" after I finished both. But sequentially, I need to stick with Rabbit God first. 

I respect the process.

I will, however, flip it off, tell it to go to hell, and threaten it with all my literary homicidal tendencies. 

But, I respect it.

Also, stitches update.

Got damn annoying.

Went back Wednesday (10 days) after knife fight. PA Wong removed one of the four stitches and immediately stopped because my skin was pulling apart.

So he slaps a steri-strip on it and tells me to come back Sunday (14 days) after knife fight.

Well, when Crystal only has one place to go that isn't a big deal, Crystal does not bother getting dressed. 

Now, I need to find time to throw on some clothes to wait for an hour for someone to remove three stitches.

At this point in time, I'm just going to adopt them. 

Cue the trio of cute names together:

Marsha, Jan, and Cindy

Tic, Tac, and Toe

Harry, Ron, and Hermione

Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup

Kirk, Spock, and McCoy

Luke, Leia, and Han Solo

Don't even get me started on snipping them, myself.

Molly is absolutely appalled but not surprised.

Welcome to my marriage.

Back to the salt mines

I do best when I start immediately working after breakfast. Like, let my food settle and then get on it. I am less ambitious when I have to do things after breakfast but before writing.

We had to run to the bank this morning.

Necessary but extremely tedious.

I am not feeling much of anything right now, much less the will to write.

But, I will.

I need to for a few reasons:

1. It saves my sanity while robbing me of it. (It's an interesting dynamic.)

2. I have deadlines I actually wrote down.

3. I need to add more things to my Book Funnel page to make it aesthetically pleasing. (Someone shoot me.)

4. All I have is the back three pages or so to edit for a book. Why am I blogging, then? 

Blogging is writing foreplay. I'm trying to get into the mood. 

Fun news?

I have all the stuff for my swag bags now so I can build them tomorrow.

About, um, two-hundred, I think.

But that's an item on my to-do list for another day.

I think I have quite enough to tackle today.🤨

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. 

🤭

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