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Two months since my last post? Time seems to speed up as we get older doesn't it? The reason I haven't written isn't just because time is in short supply. It's because I have nothing interesting to blog about.

But this post isn't about me. It's about you. I actually think about you a lot.

I'm thinking about the two divorces. You didn't come right out and say, but I noticed the changes, and the absence left behind by former spouses. You stopped talking about them.

I noticed two long term relationships ended. And when someone healed your hearts and made you happy again, those relationships failed and left you hurt and angry once more. More photos to delete.

I saw the financial struggle, and the difficult fix.

I see the grief for lost parents. Is it three or four fathers this year? A wonderful mother has gone as well.

I see the tired moms, and the PISSED OFF voters, the frustrated feminists.

Two of you are sick and yes, I've noticed your silence. You have me worried.

Someone is planning a wedding, but I don't know why you're upset. I'm still waiting for that PM.

I want to reach out and ask you all, but I tell myself that if it was my business, you would tell me.

Don't think I don't care, I do. But I don't know where to start. There's so many of you. You know how to find me, right? I'm always on Facebook, six days a week. I'm a click away, and you can have my number if you don't already.

If you see yourself here, please reach out. I'm thinking of you

Decaffeinated Work

A Tim Horton's 'Double Double'.

* I am in no way disrespecting or diminishing the events which recently happened in Paris. I've decided NOT to blog about it, because I have nothing interesting or insightful to add. Believe me, I'm as hurt and angry as everyone else, but I won't be commenting on it. *

I LOVE coffee. I could write thousands of words about my first taste of it, my favorite kinds, (Turkish and Ethiopian)  how it affects me, and how I order it in various coffee shops. But coffee has left me with a kind of homesickness.

At both jobs, my need for coffee is legendary. (How many have you had today, Donna?) The first thing I do, even before punching in, is turn on the coffee maker. Yes, you can still talk to me--I may not make a lot of sense yet, but I'm still reasonably human. I'm okay as long as I know I'm going to GET a *&%# coffee. No matter what time I have to get up, it's what gets me to work on time, knowing I get to drink coffee when I get there. I take my first sip...ahhhhh! And I can get on with my day.

Yesterday, my city finally got snow. In typical, unpredictable Alberta weather fashion, it was overly-expected. This year it's at least three weeks late.

I hit my snooze alarm three times before I got up, looked out the window, groaned loud enough to wake hibernating bears, and prepared for work.

Why don't I make coffee at home BEFORE work? Because if I did, there might be reasons not to go. This is where the homesickness kicked in.

I like my jobs. Each day I get a lot of exercise and satisfaction from all the things I cook and prep. I like a job well done, and I like my co-workers.

But yesterday, as I left my desk, my husband, kitties and warm home, I couldn't help but remember what I was doing this time last year.

I'd woken early, and made myself bacon, eggs, and coffee. I stayed in my flannel pajamas. I fed my cats, snuggling the hell out of them before I sat at my desk, smug with the knowledge that I didn't have to go outside and face the cold. I could sit still and create. Bliss.

I remember that first sip of coffee, felt the anticipation of the rush I knew would come. I opened the file to my novella, eager to begin my writing day.

I miss that feeling so much. I miss my old routine. Nowadays, I sit at my desk--after work--checking the clock, assuring that I don't write too late so that I won't be dusty-eyed tomorrow. Knowing I have to be up in six hours. Or less. Then knowing exactly why I need that coffee so much, because this happens so often.

So I can't have a coffee. I've actually reversed my life. How does one write without coffee? First World Problem, I know.

Here's a link to one of my first and favorite blog posts. I wrote this one as 'Thoeba', and it's about her first experience with coffee. :  http://earthtothoeba.blogspot.ca/2010/11/java-script.html

Why Writing Can Suck.

A couple weeks back you read reasons why it's great to be a writer. But there are downers and pitfalls. They happen to us all, but if you can't resurface from them eventually, you might want to reconsider your career choice for your own sanity.

1. You're your own boss--Yes, it's listed as a perk from last week, but to quote an effective cliche, it's a double edged sword. When you're your own boss, you have to be your own whip. No one else is going to tell you to get off your ass but you.

2. Idiot Mode--It couples up with Genius Mode like a hangover with a stranger in your bed. One night you're rolling in the glory of your personal genius and when you wake up and take a good look, you wish you didn't do any of it because you're sick and it's ugly.

3. The money is terrible.-- J.K. Rowling is the only billionaire author in history. Of all the writer friends I have met, I don't know a single one who can live off their royalties. Which brings me to point #4.

4. Pirates--They are the people who think it's perfectly okay to either give away our work or profit from them without our permission. It's a constant, draining war. I don't even understand 'why',

5.Writer's Block--It happens to all of us.It occurs for a long list of reasons. Maybe we're tired. stressed out, busy, worried, have family issues, whatever. It's normal, but completely frustrating. Thankfully, writer's of all kinds from around the world are sharing ways to fight Writer's Block. Strangely enough, this point gives me an idea for a blog.

6. Plot Bunnies, Insomnia, and rampant inspiration--Essentially this...Enough said.

7. Marketing--I HATE marketing. Between Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, Storyfinds, Smashwords, Google+ etc. plus this blog, I'm always trying to find a way to present and sell my novels without sounding like a used car salesperson trying to put themselves through law school. (apologies to used car salespeople for the stereotype).

So ask yourself..."Do I want to be a writer?" If you still do, there's something fundamentally wrong with you. Welcome to the club.

Still Among the Wicked

Thanks Mel!

I love spring, but I am having a long week. I am knee-deep in edits for 'Aphrodite's War' and stupid me, I also decided I should edit fifteen chapters of the erotica I'm piddling around with. I haven't touched 'Chasing Monsters' in a week. In fact the only new stuff I'm doing lately is this blog.

I am only floors away from finishing my spring cleaning, (Thanks Darci for cleaning my fridge! I love you!) just in time for my yard work to begin.

I am brewing wine for a wedding and looking for a new company to do my swag after my current supplier's printer went bust. (Sorry Sweetie. <3 I'm not going to name you, because I don't want to affect your business negatively.) After I started crying at lunch, a good friend volunteered to finish off the bookmarks I've been struggling with for weeks. (She had them done in two days.) God bless you, Melaida <3 I'd offer them out, but MY printer is out of ink.

I am neglecting friends and family. My poor cousin has been expecting me to phone her for three weeks. I keep e-mailing her to apologize for the lack of timing. She has two small boys. You'd think I could find SOME time to chat if SHE has the time, right? I'm awful.

In the midst of this chaos, I had some serious doubts. I never had these problems when a had a full time job. You know, like a normal person. And like I said, I'm not writing anything new.

So what the hell am I doing here?

Maybe I'm not cut out to be a writer. Maybe I don't have what it takes to commit to writing everyday to make my dream happen. Maybe I can't handle the pressure that comes with marketing, networking, organizing, handling everyday life, and most importantly, WRITING! Maybe I'm kidding myself and I'm not really all that talented...And then I got some news from my publisher, Heather Savage of Staccato Publishing.

Yours truly is a finalist  for the Midwestern Independent Book Awards! A finalist! Who, me?

I'm pretty sure I haven't quite grasped the humongousness of this honor, but it's a little hard to fathom. I beat out over one hundred books, and this is a big deal! Everybody wish me luck, because I really want to WIN.

But if I don't win...I think I've already figured out that I belong. Somebody noticed Thoeba and me. I'm a keeper in the literary world, and my work is valid. I deserve to feel good about my work, dammit!

I guess I'd better not disappoint everybody after all! I gotta  get cracking! :D

Bad words.

There are certain words that us writers can't spell...It happens, or at least I hope I'm not the ONLY one.

I'm reasonably confident in my spelling abilities. As a lover of all things wordy, I take pride in it.

These days I use Windows, and spell check, and all that awesome stuff that points out my mistakes without me asking. Nice, but...

I used to just be able to LOOK at the word after I typed it, and think "Nope, that doesn't seem right."  Then I would check my dictionary, and figure it out. I didn't mind that. It kept my brain sharp.

Now I can see that red squiggly line, and I already KNOW it's wrong...but I click to see how it's REALLY spelled.

It smacked of laziness, but I'm frequently pressed for time and don't really feel like spending the precious two minutes it would take to find it. No really, I'm sure I know how to spell words like immediately, tomorrow and definitely, given a few minutes. (Yaaaay! No squiggly lines this time! I must be learning something!)

But have you ever found a word that you couldn't spell if your life depended upon it? A word you spell SO BADLY that even the spell checker doesn't know what you're talking about? And you go to your ole' reliable dictionary, but IT DOESN'T WORK...because you're about to spend a lot of time searching for a word whose first letter is an 'R' but you have nothing else to go on because you don't know the next letter?

Here's mine: I got 'thymine.' I should've run a contest for this..."Figure out the word I'm trying to spell, and win a prize!"

Again...Rt-hymn. Not exactly, but I must be getting better. Its usually worse.

The word is 'Rhythm."  Just so you know, It took me a dictionary, spell-checker and a lot of frustration to get there. At least 6 minutes. One of the suggestions said' Rhythmic' but I was so frustrated,  I didn't see the connection.

How can I not get this? Why is it, that I LIKE this word, and it hates me so much? Does anyone else have this problem? Or am I just weird?