Crickets Dig the Friction

So, if any of you have seen Jiminy Cricket around, please send him my way. I need to find a star and dial up the Blue Fairy pronto.

My NaNo project is in critical condition. I have accepted that there is NO way I'm going to make 50k by the end of the month, but now I'm starting to wonder if I'm going to get to 25k. This doesn't depress me nearly as much as I thought it would. I guess the fact that it doesn't depress me, depresses me more. Not that that's dysfunctional or anything.

Truthfully, I haven't been putting a whole lot of effort into it. I know I'm capable of cranking out 2k a day, I just don't. Most days I have good excuses. The rest of the time I wonder if I'm fooling myself about writing as a profession. I keep thinking that I have more time. I'm only 22. There's no rush. I have years to try and get my books published. But I won't always be 22. And the years will probably sneak up on me (much like all of my excuses for not writing) and before I know it, I'll be middle aged and sitting on a pile of unread manuscripts. I can't let that happen.

It probably doesn't help that I've had a lot of excitement (and I don't mean the good kind) this year. Maybe once I figure out where I'm living and working and whether or not my body is falling apart, I'll have more energy to write.

In the meantime, there's always Netflix ;)


-Liz

Click Your Heels

I clicked my heels and what would you know? It made me trip on the moving sidewalk at the airport. Has anyone ever realized how fast those things go? You just start walking along and before you know it, you're at the end and threatening to kiss the carpet. I must master those in my next life. Or possibly this one, once I've gotten rid of the bruises.

I am home! I wanted to come home because I missed my kitties (you know, and the family, sort of) but apparently they have moved on. They are now sleeping with my mother. Mutiny, I say! I go away for three weeks....

Okay, well, I did go away for three weeks. And they are babies (six months old) so I suppose I can't blame them for seeking a little motherly love. But come on. If you're gonna go to someone for a snuggle, don't go to the mother. Mothers poke injuries to see if they've stopped bleeding before they slap a band-aid on it and tell you to stop crying. Mothers aren't for cuddling. At least, mine never was.

I'm not sure what I was hoping for when I came home. Maybe a warm welcome. Instead I got a shrug of indifference and everyone went about their business. Then again, their business was sleep, and it's sort of nearing 2am.

Damn. That's two arguments I've talked myself out of.

Anyway, I'm back in Cleveland and I miss Colorado already. If any of you are looking for a fantastic place to vacation (or hide from reality like I did) I HIGHLY recommend Sundance Trail Guest Ranch in Red Feather Lakes, Colorado. Here is their website. They are all things wonderful. I mean, they put up with me for almost three weeks, so that's about as saintly as you can get without ascending to another plane of existence.

I am now going to try and remember what time on the eastern coast feels like.

Night all!


-Liz

Real Cowboys Don't Bruise

Yes, I was actually told this by the owner of the ranch I'm staying at. He was joking of course, but it's a common mentality up here. Cowboys are rough, tough, and sometimes flamboyantly gay, creatures that can cook, clean, and generally keep themselves pretty for whatever cowgirls (or boys) happen to be wandering by.

I love Colorado.

I've been here a little over two weeks. I've already changed my flight once to extend my stay, but I will be coming home on Sunday. Sooner or later I have to bite the bullet and merge back into the lane to Crazy Town, right?

I've gotten a lot of writing done in the last two weeks, and even though I'm still WAY behind on NaNo, I feel a lot better. It's been such a long time since I've had the energy and motivation to write. I know that a huge part of writing is discipline, but when you're so stressed that you can't see straight (or your heart puts you in the hospital for a couple of days) there just isn't much left to pour into your characters.

During this little break from reality, I've had the opportunity to 1) Calm the f*ck down, 2) Realize that not everything has to be perfect, and 3) Accept the fact that being miserable and making money are counterproductive, because I've spend most of that money (and all of my time off) on doctors. It's not a great way to live.

I have also noticed that I really don't appreciate people telling me to learn to deal with the stress, because stress is everywhere. Am I crazy for wanting an existence that doesn't land me in the ER? I don't think so. And, yes, I do realize that stress comes with any job, but it doesn't have to be so much stress that your body is literally breaking down, even if you're consciously telling yourself you can handle it. That's not me flaking out. That's a serious problem.

I'll get down off my soapbox now and let you all go back to your daily lives. To all those doing NaNo this year, right on! To those not doing NaNo this year, you're a far smarter person than I am.

Hugs from Colorado.


-Liz