Ramblings

So, I really really meant to write a coherent blog post today. But then I got up at seven AM. And then I went to school. And then I did social and math and seminary and I made freezer meals and I ate pumpkin pie and I went to a friend's sixteenth birthday party dance. My thoughts have been reduced to this:

Dancing is fun. My feet hurt. Do your feet hurt? I think I strained a muscle practicing my jazz splits today. I approve of pumpkin. I think everything should have pumpkin in it. Except ravioli. That's just gross. But maybe it's not. After all, I thought eating apples with cheese was gross until someone made me try it. Then I cut my finger open trying to make myself MORE. I ought to think of something witty to write on the blog.

....

PINEAPPLE!!!

To distract you from this embarrassingly pointless post, I shall post a picture of how I feel right now.

Goodnight, all. I hope you dream of kittens in pineapple hats. And that you wake to pumpkin pie. (Best breakfast ever.) (Seriously.)

THE WALL

Okay, I admit it.

I have hit THE WALL.

It's that point when you look at your WIP and you say ... "Oh, ice. What have I done?" (At least, you say that if you're me. Because I, uh, pick up some in-world language from my characters.) And then? Then you put your head on the keyboard and cry. That wild, intoxicating rush that Horizons once was.

It's gone. And I can't help but feel like it's gone forever. How did I do this, I ask myself. How did I manage to dig myself such a deep hole while writing so joyously?

The truth is, I was ignoring the problems. I should have noticed when that one thread started to feel a little awkward. I should have realized that I couldn't wait to get away from my MC, and I should have fixed the problem right then. But I didn't. And now I have 15,000 wasted words that I need to replace with new ones.

Okay, that looks really pathetic written out like that. But it is DEVASTATING. Perhaps it's that I'm ill, or that I have the constant stress of school looming over my head, but lately every word feels like it's being wrenched from my brain with a ... wrench, probably. What else is good for wrenching?

I don't think I've ever felt this discouraged by my writing. I'm so discouraged, in fact, that I did NOTHING today -- or I guess it's yesterday now. Despite my many looming self-imposed deadlines, I spent the whole day checking my Facebook and catching up on other people's blogs. And chatting with crit partners/best friends, because honestly? That IS what keeps me alive right now. (Warmth knows I can't eat enough food to do the job.) (One of these crit partners, by the way, is reading the climax of Sarawen AS I WRITE THIS. And it's 3:30 AM her time. And she has triplet babies to help care for. I am awed by the awesomeness of Lisa.) (Also, I freaking love her to pieces. Although that seems a little violent for someone who is going on 4 hours of sleep for me. For the second time in ... what is it? A week?)

So yeah. I am at the point where random shadows on the wall seem to say 'You suck. Your writing sucks. You are never going to be anything close to anything.' (And even my evil voices don't usually say 'suck', because I have a particular grudge against that word.) Getting through these next weeks ... well, it's not going to be fun.

But at the same time, I am so lucky. No, I'm not lucky. I'm BLESSED. And when I find myself starting to complain ... I'll probably keep complaining. But I won't for one second forget how wonderful my life is. Even when I hate it.

Life is wonderful. You are all wonderful. Please don't let me forget.

Cough Cough

So, I didn't go to school today. I haven't had to for a whole week. You might expect that I've written, I dunno ... twenty or thirty thousand words in that time?

Nope. Not even close. Total is closer to 6k.

That's cause I'm sick. My head is pounding, my nose is running, and my coughing sounds like a rabid wolf is caught in my throat. These are not conditions conducive to writing, people! Especially when I'm still unable to chew after jaw surgery. To top it all off, Horizons is being difficult. I think it's caught my illness ... or maybe something different, as it seems to be throwing up regularly. I'm frantically scrubbing off the vomit and trying to fix the problems, but it's SO FRUSTRATING.

SO VERY FRUSTRATING.

On the bright side, I just gained a new crit partner. (Or rather, I entrusted an established crit partner with Sarawen.) And she is awesome. Awesome enough to stay up until 4am reading. That might be all that keeps me moving forward right now. What would we ever do without friends?

Anyway, I have no mental energy. So again, I am turning to a snippet from my book. (Sarawen, this time.) I hope this makes enough sense out of context for SOMEBODY to laugh at it.

"Are you ... Did you just ask me to marry you?"
"No!" he blurted. "I ... I asked you to consider ... it."


Drat. That was much funnier in context. I'll leave it anyway. I've got urgent matters to attend to. You know -- Cough, sniffle, blow nose, repeat ...

2 Weeks Post-Op

I have survived. The worst is behind me ... or at least, I hope it is.

The last two weeks have been rough. I have cried and bled and taken pictures. I have lost weight. Maybe ten pounds. Maybe more. (My bathroom scale isn't all that reliable. This morning, it told me I weigh a whopping total of 0.00 lbs. Yippee!) (NOT. I was only 127 lbs to begin with. That seems like a good weight to me. Besides, I miss food. A lot.)

On the bright side, I'm completely off painkillers and able to sleep most of the night. The wounds are healing well, according to my orthodontist. The swelling is almost all gone. So is the bruising, except for one dark spot on my throat. (No idea what happened there.) My bite is wonderful. Strange, but wonderful.

And Horizons is 60,000 words. My record for words-written-in-a-day? Ten thousand and four.

Am I pleased? Yes, I am pleased. Am I sane?

Um ... More ice cream? Yes, I would like some more ice cream, please.

Catching Up

First, a few pictures!

Me, morning of August 31. (Happy Birthday, Lizard-beth!)

My bruising, evening of August 31. I wore the sickly

yellow shirt to match, of course.

So late on September 1 that it was technically September 2.

Really September 2. As you can see, the swelling went 

back up a little overnight. Yes, the deer-in-the-headlights

look is intentional.

September 3, and the swelling is holding steady.

So is the bruising.

Now here I am, sitting on the couch, staring at the

headlights of my laptop right before it runs me over.

The marks where it ran me over, duh.

So that should give you an idea of what's been happening with my jaw. It's healing well enough, though I have trouble sleeping at night. I'm trying to keep my head elevated, which means I have to prop myself up with pillows to sleep. And with the jaw pain, it's hard to lie on my side. I never sleep on my back. So sleeping is probably the hardest part.

And eating. Eating stinks. But my wonderful parents bought me some of the taboo flavoured oatmeal packages, so I can whip myself up a meal in as much time as it takes to boil water. That helps.

On the bright side, I WROTE 31K THIS WEEK!!! (Breaking my words-in-a-day record. TWICE.) I am so in love with this book. More in love than I was with Sarawen. Maybe it's because it's a sequel, and I already have the plot mapped out in my brain. Maybe it's because I'm a better writer. Whatever it is, I am rejoicing as a strong man to run a race. Minus the sweaty icky parts. Plus sleep-deprivation. But, you know. It's a simile, so anything goes.

Also, I had my first post-op appointment on Thursday. Everything is going great. Wounds are clean and healing well. Yay! I got to see x-rays of the hardware in my head. It was pretty sweet. I'll see if I can scan one for you guys soon.

Why Sleep Is Good

So, you know how yesterday I wrote 9,028 words? You know how I said I was going to sleep after that?

Guess what? I DIDN'T SLEEP. It's not my fault. Seriously. I got all ready for bed. I brushed my teeth and everything. (And let me tell you, brushing my teeth is hard these days.) Then I shut out the light, got into bed, and stared at the wall for 3 hours. Every time I was almost asleep (at about the point where my disconnected musings become dreams) I would clearly and distinctly hear something so freaky it would wake me up. Once it was a baby crying. Once it was maniacal laughter. Once it was a hoarse voice, whispering my name.

None of those sounds were real. I am not sure what was wrong with me. I blame it on a combination of painkillers, a writer's imagination, and an aquarium gurgling in the other room. The fact remains, I didn't get to sleep until three o'clock in the morning.

And then I woke up at 8. Because my mom was working in the kitchen, and I just had to tell her all about my wonderful writing spree yesterday. You ought to know: I need at least 8 hours of sleep to function on a remotely normal level. So this morning ... let's just say there was a lot of giggling and erratic tiptoeing around the house. That was when my mom reminded me that I had to take an exam today.

Why? It's a long story. Basically, I'm returning to public school this year, and they need proof that I belong in Grade 11. They wanted me to write the Grade 10 English exam. (I wondered whether my 220,000 word book would qualify, but decided not to ask.) So I ate some breakfast and got back into bed to try and get some sleep before the big test.

I lay here for two hours. I did not sleep. However, by the end, I was irritated enough to be alert. I just finished the test. It was nerve-wracking. Really, really nerve-wracking. I never stress over tests, but this one had me nearly crying. The combination of jaw pain, lack of sleep, and total ignorance about advertising terminology had me shaking with terror. But the test is taken. I've tossed the dice. Now I just have to wait and see what comes up.

I'm starting to realize why I don't gamble.

Totally Not Worth The Wait

So. Um. Hi?

I had a great time at my family reunion. Loved seeing everyone and even meeting a few new people, like my adorable six month old cousin Gus.

[Picture of me holding Gus that I do not have.]

But the reunion was also tiring. Between taking care of younger cousins and an unfamiliar bed, I didn't get a whole lot of sleep. Three days after I got home, I am still ridiculously tired. So tired that I'm having trouble coming up with a brilliant blog post that will make you all laugh and be totally worth the weeks I've been gone.

[Long pause, in which I stare at the pretty blinking cursor and do not think. At all.]

What? You're still here? Oh, sorry about that. I ... don't remember what else I was going to say. I think I'll post again when I can do advanced calculus. (What's that? I haven't learned advanced calculus yet? Oh well. I guess you'll be seeing me in a couple years. Goodbye.)