Sunday, November 25, 2018

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. ๐Ÿ˜Š

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. 

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