If one more person tells me how much they want to write a novel, but they just don't have the time, I might just bitchslap them.
Because I'm sure as hell not going to waste my Starbucks Venti Peppermint Mocha throwing it in their face.
(Praise Murphy and all other deities! There's a Starbucks in our town now! I can retain my Gold status for 2016. Actually, this news is a very good thing for those who irritate me. Buying me a Venti Peppermint Mocha will make me bitchslapping you less likely.)
The new Starbucks has helped me cope with the family drama. We started 2016 with MIL still in the Physical Rehab/Skilled Nursing facility. Only to have Blue Cross/Blue Shield try to say she doesn't need such care. Mind you, the woman has a gaping open wound on her leg that is the length and twice the width of my forearm. As in, she could be an extra on The Walking Dead without any make-up. It's bad enough that we'll be consulting with a plastic surgeon later next week.
On a side note: I fucking hate Blue Cross/Blue Shield! These are the same assholes who tried to deny coverage on DH's emergency surgery when a cancer tumor literally ripped open his colon. Their reason? Not getting preauthorization.
Back in the current time frame, FIL hasn't been dealing with the absence of MIL very well. He's been eating less and less. He complained about intense pain in his leg (ironically, the same side MIL is having problems with). DH took him to the ER on the 30th. After a CAT scan, the doc thought the problem was sciatica, i.e. pressure on the sciatic nerve due to inflammation and spasming of his back muscles, probably from stress. Unfortunately, things got worse.
So, Monday started with BC/BS being assholes and ended with FIL back in the ER with more symptoms than his original sciatica.
What does any of this have to do with writing?
In the middle of helping DH with his parents, I actually got words in.
Nope, not lying. I have words. Maybe not thousands, but I've got hundreds over the last seven days. A hair over 200 per day for the first six days.
For one thing, writing has actually been my method of relaxing prior to publication. I lost that along the way. Finding the fun again has been one of my goals this year.
Which brings me to letting go of the pressure I've been putting on myself to publish faster and faster. The more pressure I loaded in my head, the more I felt like a failure for not living up to unobtainable, unrealistic goals given all the family issues over the last two and a half years.
The last trick was not getting caught up in some weird ritual before I wrote. And yes, I've tried them all. My only ritual now is pulling out my iPhone when I'm waiting in line or sitting in a doctor's office and typing a sentence or a paragraph or a chapter.
An iPhone? Yep, an iPhone, using the Notes app. So far, I'm five chapters into Sacrificed which will be Bloodlines Book 8.
And right now, there's someone reading this, screaming "I can't do that! The screen's too small." Remember "weird ritual" above?
Yep, that's what the screamer is doing. Not letting go of a weird ritual. If you don't like my method, that's fine, but don't tie yourself to one method. I didn't think I could write on a smartphone, one sentence at a time, either. Surprise!
So yes, you can write in the middle of a major family crisis. Just let go of your preconceived notions first.
On Not Writing
4 hours ago