It's Got Ups And Downs

Writing has its downsides. That might be a bit shocking to hear me admit. Everyone who knows me knows writing is my life. But, like all great things, it can cause problems. And I'm not just talking about the time when I didn't shower for three days because I was writing the climax of the book. (Erm, let's pretend I didn't tell you about that, okay?)

In this particular post, I'm talking about health. I went to the chiropractor a couple weeks ago, and I was really messed up. After an extremely painful adjustment, he asked me how much exercise I got. My answer: Um. I walk to church? And to the library? When was the last time I left my house, anyway? Him: What kind of walking? Do you do any exercise that makes you sweat? Me: ARE YOU KIDDING ME? IF I SWEAT, I'LL HAVE TO SHOWER, AND THAT'S FIVE MINUTES THAT I DON'T SPEND EDITING! DON'T YOU REALIZE I HAVE TO FINISH THIS BOOK BEFORE MY SURGERY IN AUGUST AND WRITE A QUERY LETTER AND A SYNOPSES AND EAT FOOD?! I DON'T NEED MORE DEMANDS ON MY TIME!!!

Let us have a moment of silence to reflect on why I have a blog. (Actually, this helps me write.) (Actually, so does exercise.) (The real problem with exercise is that it requires me to clean my room quite thoroughly, which I haven't done since last week.)

Okay, I didn't actually say that to the chiropractor. I thought it. But then I thought, 'Exercise is a good thing, really. It always makes me more productive.' I resolved to exercise more. And then I thought of a really great person to kill in book 4. And I forgot about exercising. (I was also supposed to go back to the chiropractor last week, which I didn't do, because he's a half-hour away and I can't drive. I think it would really break a sweat to walk there, and that would be a pain, because I wouldn't even have a shower handy.) By the time I remembered, my sinus trouble had started, and most of my usual exercises (jumping jacks, sit-ups, hopping on one foot) was too painful to even attempt. I settled for some wimpy leg-lifts.

And then, yesterday, I finally decided to really exercise. And promptly broke my neck.

No, that's not what happened. But that's what it felt like. I was doing sit-ups, minding my own business, and then I was flat on my back, and my neck hurt. As in, I could not move because my neck hurt so badly. I had to find a way to get up without bending it AT ALL, then stagger over to the couch, grab my computer, and figure out if I was going to die. I'm not. Best I can guess, I messed up one of the disks in my neck, trapping a nerve, which decided to complain. It is still complaining, and I still have about half the normal range of motion that a neck is supposed to have.

I'm going to see the chiropractor today. He's going to tell me to exercise. This time, I might actually cry. (And then I'll have to hold my neck still, because crying really hurts right now.) (I've done a little more research, and come to the conclusion that if I supported my neck when doing sit-ups, this probably wouldn't happen. Not only am I lazy about exercise, I'm really, really bad at it.)

So who wants to come be my personal trainer? I'm warning you; I'll whine. A lot. But I'll love you anyway. (Nobody? Are you sure? Drat. I don't love you anymore.)

And lest you come out of this thinking 'Oh no, the life of a writer is horrible and I never want to do it,' let me show you one of the moments that really makes it worthwhile.

Disclaimer: The star of this moment (baby sister Lizard-beth. Not to be confused with lizard breath.) (Yes, I'm going to keep using these inane nicknames for my siblings even though you all know their real names) has refused to let me share this video unless I make it clear that she doesn't look like this all the time. She doesn't. At six o'clock in the morning, she looks like this:

[Image deleted due to disturbing content. And fangs.]

The rest of the time, she looks like this:

The exception is candid videos, one of which I am about to show you right now. This was filmed on my webcam while Lizzie read the scenes I edited yesterday. Behold the glory of being a writer. (And please, ignore the household sounds/conversations/tantrums in the background. We've got six kids here.) (Sorry about my loud, obnoxious voice. It was loud because I was in a different room from the one I was talking to, being immobilized by above neck injury. I can't help the obnoxious part.) (I can't believe I'm actually going to post this. Deep breath.) (You don't have to watch all of it unless you want to. One minute is enough to get the gist of it. But it's really, really awesome to watch the whole thing.) (At least watch until she whimpers the first time. Please.)