Let me try, again

Super frustrated over the lack of novel writing. It’s been 19 days, NOT THAT I’M COUNTING, or anything. Not that I’m thinking that’s **almost** a month of lost words, lost work time…

It’s not that I don’t have any ideas. It’s just…there’s something off in all of them…it’s just that they all excited me equally. The last three manuscripts I drafted, I felt it, y’know?

I feel all of these on equal levels, they all terrify me on equal levels…

Today I woke up thinking of Agatha Christie saying she knew she was a professional author when she wrote even when she didn’t feel like it, didn’t like it, and wasn’t doing that great a job.

So, I’m going to try again, but instead of hoping for inspiration or some divine music from the heavens, I’m just going to try, without any expectation of what kind of outcome I want.


Well, that was a glorious fail!

Yesterday’s thought: I’m going to do 15 minutes on one book then 15 minutes on another book, and so on, and maybe that way, I’ll get traction on one story.

Yesterday’s reality: Grabbed my husband, the furry ones, and streamed Scott & Bailey until bed time.


Today’s another day, though, right?


Journaling as a writing primer

Back in the day, I used to be pretty good with my online blog. But then, family members got sick and some passed away, and in the meantime, the online conversation seemed to polarize itself with people shouting louder and louder, and no one wanting (it seemed) to hear each other.

I’m not one for being shouted at, so I stepped back, then stepped back, until I was hardly (if ever) blogging.

But now, I have a redesigned website and it seems only right to come back to the digital page and take up the pen, once more.

I’m looking forward to the writing as a way to prime myself for the story work. I’ve been in a state of limbo for the last two weeks, trying to sort through which project to do next. The problem isn’t a lack of ideas. It’s the opposite. I have too many ideas. And like many authors, I have 4 or 5 books that are in a state of partial completion, put down for a variety of reasons, and I fret whether to start something new or finish what I’ve started.

So, for the next week…um, okay, today, I’m going to try 15 minutes/idea. And then tomorrow, I’m going to try that, again. And I hope by doing this, I’ll finally find some traction on the story.


My most-least-favourite four-letter word

Good. There, I’ve said it. Good. Good is a perfectly acceptable word. In many cases, it’s one of my favourite words. When I don’t like the word “good” is when it’s in the context of things that writers say. Like, “Can you read this and tell me if it’s any good?” or “Yeah, I don’t want to share. It’s not good.” read more…


(I’m in the passenger seat, Dad’s driving, Mom’s in the back)

Mom: Turn on Thickson
Dad: Dickson??
Mom: Thickson!
Dad: Erickson?
Mom: Boy, yah nah hear meh?
Dad: Where do I turn?!
Mom: Eh, nah, man, is deh same name deh bois call deh sexy gyrls back home!
Dad: Thick? Oh, Thickson!

And that, friends, is how my parents give each other driving directions


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