Murder, Holiday, Love and Sleep

I finished Murder! Well, I finished it in regard to the first draft. Now it’s been sent off to my Alpha and Beta readers. Then it goes to the editors. This book has been a beast to write, and it’s huge. Almost 100K but I usually do quite a bit of trimming in the editing rounds. And the betas have already made me want to chop some parts out to increase story parts for other characters. 

It's up for pre-order- you should go click it. It will make you feel better, me feel better... see, worth it. 

BUY YOU SOME MURDER! DO IT!

If you haven’t read my books—they are a full-cast type of book. Playing like movies in your head—or so they say.

It’s been hard to get it done. 

In fact, it’s been hard to get anything done. Add to that, it’s the holidays. This time of year is never easy for those with depression—and I am no exception. Now, back in the days when I had children to shop, decorate and cook for, I didn’t get the holiday blues so badly. Now, it’s ruthless. I have ZERO idea what I was thinking when I set the publish date for Murder as 01/02/19. That’s right smack at the deepest end of my fal-la-la-la lows. But maybe I did…

It has given me something to focus on and a goal beyond making it through the holidays. Yes, making it through is exactly what it means. Not that I’d make that move but yes, as I have admitted in the past, I think about ending it several times a week. Thus far, it’s been a thought and nothing more. No bombarding me with “I care” comments, but the concern is appreciated. I just am too busy to read them or respond. 😊

The blahs and such (see last week’s post why it’s harder to deal with this year), of course, impacted Ink-N-Flow and I need to revamp some things and unless I want my life to prod me deeper into the “woe is me” zone, I must get my brain back focused and driven. But it’s hard—the family is going through things, I’m going through things, the world is going through things… Good Lord, I just repeated over and over… so let’s make it clear—EVERYTHING, EVERYWHERE, EVERYONE is going through things right now. It’s all a mess isn’t it?

I found myself wishing I had a relationship. But let’s make something else transparent. I suck at relationships. Marriage. Friendship. Parenting. Children. Well, in all honesty, my pets think I do okay. Most days—but that may be that I cannot recognize the disappointment on animal faces. But the interaction that I suck at most is a relationship with another person in the venture of love. I’ve been married three times, and each one ended horribly, tragically and in flames. Even my sweet, kind-hearted stepmother Barb agreed—“You are just not cut out for marriage.” That’s bad people—she’s the most optimistic person I know. But I do agree.  I am well aware that I am the hardest person to live with. To get to know. One day I’m up and excited and the next not wanting to get out of bed. Facts are not lost on what type of person I am. All the failed relationships attest to that. 

I even put “I am terrible at relationships and even hazardous if you dare” on an online dating profile. Want to guess how many responded to that? One guy that was looking for a green card. He didn’t even speak English… pretty sure he didn’t read my personal disclaimer. Did I entertain messaging back? Let’s not add any more points to my shame bucket today by my answering, okay?

I believe we can all agree that holidays are so much better when you have someone to share them with. Holding your hand, laughing at the cheesy gift exchange. Cuddling on the couch and being forced to watch Hallmark Christmas movies. And I miss sleeping with another body. I slept better when I didn’t have to do it alone; I’m barely doing it now on some days and sleeping too much on others (see holiday funk above). And sex… oh sure, I miss that.

I spend so many days writing love stories. Spinning out passionate sex between two people but here I am, alone. I’m creating love stories, fairy tales and then go to bed to hug my pillow. It’s a pitiful way of spending one’s days. I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one of course, but I’m the only one that has to deal with my own, so allow me some self-indulgence here.

Since I vowed to be honest here, I will let you know that some days my characters make me angry. Not angry at them, per se, but at my own life of not having what they have. It’s so stupid and hard to explain. If you were ever to peep into my home like a creeper, you’d see me bitching out loud that they need to count their blessings I wrote them an HEA—when I have yet to find one myself. And, see the part about being terrible at relationships, most likely the written ones are the only ones I’ll have. And those, I have to write myself—unlike my own—which I have zero control over.

It’s like being a baker of the best cakes and being unable to eat a single bite of cake.

God, I love cake. I wish I had cake.
Why isn’t cake keto?

So here’s to the holidays coming and then please, going. 

2019 I hope (keep in mind, I had the same exact futile feeling at the end of 2017) is going to be a huge one. A great one. Maybe I’ll find love. Or someone willing to even try—who can convince me to do the same. Or be here in a year saying all these exact same things.

Who knows really?

I sure don’t. 

The Last Pill

Note: This is the third f*ing time I've tried to post this. And here I go again.  Staying true to my tasks and commitments are HARD. Like posting a new blog post here every Sunday - but I shall prevail! My wordy goldfish will not die and float belly up in a fish bowl of fail! NO SIREE!

Okay... back on topic... Sorry, I rambled a little. It's almost 2am, that's just bound to happen.
Carry on. 

Happy Sunday!
I am on an extremely tight, self-imposed, but needed, deadline for Murder. I had every intention of having it to my alpha reader tonight, but I also wanted to spend time with my grand kids. They are moving away next month to the Odessa area and that's almost 8 hours away. So I kept them for a few days and it was great. But that also means I didn't get the hours in to work on Marcus' book--in fact, I'm working on it as we speak. I hope to have it out of my hands this week right before Thanksgiving. And as I carried on with my normal Sunday activity to prep for the upcoming week, I discovered an even bigger reason to get it done while I can, beyond my tight, high-pressure deadline. 

See this?
This is one lonely pill in it's soon to be empty orange bottle. 

That little pill is what has worked to keep my bi-polar depression in check. After so many doctors, years of therapists, I finally had the pill that allowed me to function, be sane, not bite people's heads off one day and hug and want to kiss them a minute later.  Or be so angry and grumpy that even the UPS truck would just slow down, throw a box and speed up (hasn't really happened, but it does make for a funny visual).  

As I said in LAST WEEK (yes, let's revel in the fact I've done two blog posts in that many weeks, that's a big deal people! I am very, very, busy. And I procrastinate some days. Shrugs, I can get distracted by a sandwich, total transparency here - full stop, or something ridiculous). But anyway, if you were paying attention - I lost my corporate job. And that means... ding, ding. No more insurance.

I'm sure you are going to ask, which is logical, why don't I just pay for it myself? Well, that would be great to do if it didn't cost me almost $1300 for a one-month supply. Or, if I could have afforded my Cobra option at almost $700 a month. OR, pay for insurance on my own and pay almost $500 a month. I'm sorry, but if you want to get into a debate or discussion or, let's be honest, with me it's going to be a heated argument - about why one of the most advanced, prosperous and most admired countries in the WORLD doesn't provide health insurance for it's citizens - then it might not be wise. IT'S ESPECIALLY unwise to do so in a week. But it will be more entertaining then, that's for sure. 

The truth is this - when it comes down to eating, paying for electricity and the crucial things like toilet tissue versus filling up an orange bottle with pills, chances are... the meds are going to lose. And I'm not the only American citizen in this position. There are U.S. citizens all over our grand country that have to choose between being sick or getting care. Going to a doctor with a huge expensive deductible or going to the ER where they don't make you pay upfront and having a huge, expense bill come later. Or, like me, not filling an RX because it's just too damn expensive.

Now, I have looked into holistic, natural supplements and they have been ordered and on their way. But I also know that in a week or so, I will go through anti-depressant withdrawal as my body sheds itself of a chemical it's used to getting. One it relied on. One I needed. And once I've gone through that, I will attempt to keep myself from acting too nuts to all you lurkers, friends, family and readers as much as possible. But I can promise you, it won't be pretty. Might be strangely amusing and entertaining but chances are, it won't be at all attractive. Like a dumpster fire made up by ugly crying, bitter tears.

This GIF however....IS ADORABLE!

See, I know how it's going to go. I'm going to feel ill.  Headaches, stomach aches, body aches and just out and out miserable as my brain acts like an addict missing out on a fix. I'm going to feel exhausted and emotional. I'll lash out. I'll cry and I most likely will curl up in the bed and not move from there for a few days. Then I'll get stinky, the dog will no longer want to steal most of the bed from me and then, maybe, just maybe, there's a chance I'll get up and shower. If not, would one of you kind people come hose me off? Please?  And uh, bring food? Because chances are I haven't eaten either.

Then it'll start waning. I'll feel better, the herbal stuff will start taking the edge off and hopefully I didn't destroy my brand. My readership. Get arrested or alienated the few friends I have left. I'll apologize or I won't. Chances are, I won't say a word and just deal. It's what I do. I just hope the damage isn't so bad there is duct tape needed. I suck with duct tape. I get weirded out if it's not straight.

Oh wait, where was I?
It's 2am notw...and no calling out my typos or grammar oopsies. I am sure Lori is asleep and couldn't check this. Don't be judge-y. It's rude. Gosh. 

So here's to a new week. YAY! It's going to be fantastic. Or it's going to be a shit-show and you all get to watch. But I have a book to finish while chemicals are keeping a leash on my special, creative brain. 

Oh, and go buy some books, why don't you.
We'll call it donations to the Drug Fund.
Or, helping out a certified crazy author who really should be on meds fund.
Nah, that last one was WAY too wordy. 

Pick up the books here:
https://www.amazon.com/Jas-T.-Ward/e/B00CJO70A8/

Or go to my website:
www.AuthorJasTWard.com

Or follow my Facebook page - who KNOWS what may show up there in the coming days.
Be afraid, be very, very afraid. 
https://www.facebook.com/AuthorJasTWard/

It's November? How the Heck Did That Happen?

I’ve had this blog for years and as I’ve said in previous posts, it’s a good thing it’s not a goldfish because it would have been floating belly up for quite a while. I have no idea where this year has gone but here it is November and I haven’t published a single book in 2018. I had such lofty yet reasonable goals; four books a year—one book each quarter.  Yet, here we are, it’s November and I haven’t published a single one. To be perfectly honest, Murder (book four of the Shadow-Keepers series) was due in March but yeah, I hate to repeat myself but it’s November. That’s March 2018, by the way (imagine a deep sigh of defeat here).

Murder has a pre-order release date of January 2^nd, 2019. In case you’re doing the math, that’s not even close to March 2018. You can help my guilt by clicking the pre-order. Not to mention seeing that pre-order number climb puts major pressure on me to finish the damn thing. After all (yes, it’s getting redundant now) it’s November.  Here’s the link to help make me lose sleep, curl up in the corner crying “I’m going to be a failure”… but it will be worth the wait and the read, I promise.

You can click the pre-order link here:

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07KCCR2FL

It’s not like 2018 was not a busy year. Oh no, it completely was. But not in the writing, authoring corner of my brain. As some of you may know, my “other” job was as a Senior Project Manager for a Fortune 200 company and it kept me busy—as in days, evenings and sometimes weekends. That’s what happens when a company decides to move so much overseas and slide all the domestic work to the few people, they still have in the U.S. I saw the writing on the corporate wall; after all, I had been employed by that same company prior, laid off for 1.5 years after working a decade with them and had moved on in that period. That is, until they called me back and offered that big mind changer—money. Really good money and the bonus of being able to work from home. That was my demand because my dad’s health was failing and I wanted to be here in Texas where he was. They accepted my demand and I belonged to them again in 2015.  And that continued until September of this year. Yep, I once again joined the ranks of the laid off. They did do right by me with a severance and such—but zero warning from them; I knew it was coming but I thought I would have had some more time—like they said I did. I logged in on a Monday and was told, nope, log back out. You’re done. Yeah. And I wasn’t the only one. They moved thousands overseas and us domestic PM’s were among those numbers.

Side note: I should tell you the funny part—the fact they called me to come back within weeks of letting me go and offered me a lot more money. My fear of failure at supporting myself with myself had me accepting, once again with demands, and it was all good to go. Until it wasn’t. I have no idea but I think the person that offered me the position—also got laid off. It’s that comical. But I digress…

Being a fairly intelligent person (most days) I made plans for when my job vaporized. I started my own consulting agency. A few friends who I respected knew that I have always helped other authors in indie publishing and said I could make money at that. I laughed and said, you think? But that planted a seed and realized I could combine my passion of writing and helping authors with the skills I had learned from thirteen years as a corporate project manager. And Ink-N-Flow Management Group was born. The original plan was to build up my fledging little agency while the corporate job ramped down because I would have an income while the agency grew its wings from a single feather—me. You know that saying about best-made-plans? Apply that here. The sudden loss of employment without the usual few weeks of transition hit hard. I had zero choice but to let the impact of that blow send me right into my new ambitions with the agency.  If you haven’t given it a look, please do. I’m very proud of it and we are expanding majorly in 2019.

Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/InkNFlowManagement/

Website:

www.InkNFlowManagementGroup.com

But back to 2018. I started it and it flew… Fast.

I had no idea it would. My own self-doubt roped together with my depression told me over and over that it would fail. That the wings I hoped it would have would melt away like Icarus flying to the sun with his son—fragile hopes held together with fear, hope and creativity; like wax on feathers. That or Ink-N-Flow flies only on cloudy days and the sun isn’t seen. Or we’re like Batman… or something. But I am so grateful as we coast along. Since opening our doors, we have a staff of myself and three other amazing people who have such hopes for the agency and work so damn hard. You know how amazing it is to have people believe and have FAITH in you? Even on days when you have none of that for yourself? I have no words (which is fairly sad considering I’m a fairly decent storyteller) but I am so happy they are there day-by-day to boost the dream we hope Ink-N-Flow will become. Not IF… but will. You have any idea how great yet difficult it is to tell myself WILL… not IF? That’s huge people—you’ll just have to take my word for it.

In the few months we started we’ve taken on incredibly talented author clients, a publisher (thank you, Becky), helped several inspiring women start their own businesses with our help and encouragement. My bills are actually getting paid—sure, I’m not eating fancy and I downgraded many areas to lean down my budget but that’s okay. I love waking up and being my own boss. Just ask my close friends how very giddy-stupid I was when the bank set me up with a business account, my LLC was complete and I could officially and legally be called a CEO (Chief Executive Officer,  hush, you of course knew what that stood for but I love saying/typing it) of my own corporation. Never mind that I am also the switchboard, the accountant, the mail room and runner; it’s still amazing to this single mom who once upon a time was homeless and did phone sex while pregnant with my first child to get by (yeah, that’s all true).

So, here we are in November with the end of this year right around the corner, peeking over at me and going “tick-tock” each day. I have a book coming out, I have a schedule to get four and more done next year (thank you, Lori) and Ink-N-Flow is branching out to local businesses. Which means learning to tell my social anxiety and stress to shut the _____ up, I have too much to do and no time for such foolishness. The same issues that have me sleeping too much some days, curling up and unable to go outside the house or heaven help me if I run out of toilet tissue and no one delivers that kind of stuff, days. I can do this. Or so I’m going to keep telling myself and telling others to tell me until it’s true.

I must do this.

The writing – it has to happen because I make zero money if the words don’t get out there beyond my head and my flash drive.

Ink-N-Flow Management has to fly because I have empowering people that believe in me and it. I’m not the only feather trying not to soar too dang close to the sun.

I am a single, older woman with no husband or other to support me.

I have pets to feed (who think they are human children – I’m not kidding. One even insists on wearing clothes).
And I do not want to go back to doing phone sex—for the record, I was really good at it. Just sayin’. :D

Or homeless. I REALLY don’t want to go back to that. As carefree as it seems those days mentioned up there.

So, here’s to 2019 and showing 2018 that I noticed it was a bitch and sneaked past me.

Come on, I can do it. You can do it.

We can do it.

Now, who is going to supply the chocolate and wine?

Oh and bring some toilet tissue… 😉