Hey, I'm back, and it's not a cat post.
Fall is always crazy busy for me. I don't mind. It's neither too hot nor too cold to get everything done. I'm not going to bore you with the list, but I will tell you that pear loaves are in the freezer, got my flu shot, got my winter tires on, and my house is clean from top to bottom. I don't even have kids, and I can barely keep up.
I also have a novel coming out named ELAINA'S FATE. I'm on it, for real. Emma designed a wicked cool cover for me, David helped me write the story. Spoiler Alert: You can thank him for the longer and improved battle scene. Heather has worked her usual magic, polishing my words into grammatic prose so well that I can barely tell where she's been. It's still mine...only better.
I have been slowly crawling toward graveyard shift, and I'm letting it happen. It's natural for me and someday, when I'm a retired crone, I will live like this permanently. I like the day, but my body prefers night time, like a vampire.
Something happens to my body when Fall arrives. I was practically born an insomniac, but I thought I'd learned how to control it. Sometimes...not all the time. I no longer stay awake for days. Right now, I'm finding that I'm always tired. I wake up in the ungodly hours and can't get back to sleep. I need long daytime naps, and they are blissfully deep snorefests where I wake up refreshed at dinner time. I'm letting it happen.
If you're wondering what I mean by 'Born an insomniac' , It's like this. I was born in winter and my beloved father worked eleven at night until seven in the morning for the railroad system. (This was when he still went to school at NAIT. Apparently, my father didn't rest much in the early years of his marriage.) I couldn't sleep or be comforted until my father came home from work. He would rock me to sleep, and my mother would serve him bacon with scrambled eggs and a beer after I finally went down for the day.
Also odd fact. I had no idea my father went to the Northern Alberta Institute of Technology to be an electrician until he passed. He became an Instrument Mechanic shortly after we moved to an obscure hamlet named Rainbow Lake and they needed other skills than an electrician. . He challenged the exam to be certified and spent the rest of his life as an Instrument Mechanic That trade was new and he never once spent a day in NAIT'S classroom to become one.
But I digress, back to graves. Why fight it? I used to work graveyards when I was single and I decades later worked them well for a certain toy company that still exists in Canada. While I'm not working for them this year, the department store I spend 75 to 80 percent of my time working at agrees that coming in after they close is a great idea. The staff already knows me from other late night work I do. No collectors to deal with, I won't be in the way of customers while I do what I need to do. The staff like me, and I like them. I feel energetic just
The other stores I do? I can always nap until they open at seven, eight, nine o 'clock, and be there extra early before they are busy.
Or I can spend my off hours getting ELAINA'S FATE ready to publish. I win. Or at least I hope so. My goal is to get ELAINA'S FATE out in time for Christmas. I hope so anyway. It's been too long, and I'm sorry. It just wasn't ready, I wasn't ready. Sorry for so much delay.
So please wish me luck.