OOPS. The Good News and the Bad News

The good news. The 1 Chin project is progressing.
We have sold French rights to the 1st 3 books in the Blood Singer series.
We have sold Russian rights to the 1st 3 books in the Blood Singer series.
I have the stereo set up at my house now.
I have found a way to keep the animals from digging in the potted plants.

The bad news.

I hurt my foot and my shoulder.
Ugh.

Ah well. They'll heal. They always do. But what a pain in the patoot.

Everybody take care.

Cie

The 1 Chin Project

Okay, for those of you who don't know me personally, if you see a fairly recent picture of me (and believe me, I hope you don't) you will notice that I have had a round, puffy face and multiple chins. This is, in part, due to some medical things that have been going on: a pituitary tumor and hypothyroidism. This is not a big deal, the thyroid thing is actually pretty common and treatable (if tricky). The thing is, the pituitary and thyroid are real big in the whole metabolism thing, and they don't like to give you too much thyroid medicine because it can cause little things like, oh, heart problems.

But, I, personally, have noticed that if I weigh just a bit less, the thyroid meds I'm on work better. It doesn't even have to be a LOT less. Just a few pounds and suddenly I have energy, my hair isn't falling out, and my skin (particularly on my hands and scalp) stops splitting and bleeding (Yeah, it does that. It's that dry. No, lotions and creams don't do much for it. It sucks. And yes, it does hurt. And yes, total strangers come up to me to talk about it. At length.)

SO, right before Christmas (when I was feeling pretty awful) I started the 1 chin program. It is a program of my own design, meant to help me drop those few pounds and feel better. And get me more fit, AND DOWN TO 1 CHIN. Just an ordinary face. With cheekbones. Where my eyes look big.

I walk every other day and do "exercises" for muscle tone on the alternate days from the walking. On alternate days I will eat really well, including oatmeal for breakfast (which is good for your heart and cholesterol levels as well as helping to regulate your blood sugar), fruits and vegetables, low fat, all that happy crap.

On the opposite days of the oatmeal days, I eat what I want. Completely. No, I don't go overboard. But I don't deprive myself either. I like breakfast bowls. So I have one, etc.

After approximately 4 weeks I am down to 1.25 chins. The .25 is loose skin that if I look down becomes a chin. It is not completely gone yet. But it is going. Quickly. HOOYAH!

I have energy most of the time.
I'm sleeping better.
MY HAIR HAS STOPPED FALLING OUT.

MY SKIN HAS STOPPED SPLITTING!!!!!!!!!!!!

And because it's only every-other-day, I'm not feeling deprived at all.

This so rocks.

Now I know most of you really aren't interested. And I probably shouldn't be posting personal stuff anyway. BUT I'M FREAKING HAPPY ABOUT THIS.

I would love to lose a lot of weight. That may or may not happen. But I'm feeling SOOOOOOOOO much better than I did before Christmas. And the meds are actually working at this dosage again. (And maybe there are doctors out there who will say it's a coincidence and body mass doesn't affect thyroid med dosage. Or not. I dunno. I just know my body, and it's working for me.)

So there you go. It takes time (which I don't have a lot of), and effort, but it is SOOOOO turning out to be worth it. And I will probably post about it once in a while.

Cie

Welcome to a New Year

Welcome to a new year.

Whether I'll be better about posting is anyone's guess. But I've been pondering, and have decided to make some serious changes that I may decide to try to keep track of here (in favor of personal accountability.) Or not. Part of me is a private person. Another part is less so, and willing to post all for all.

I am waiting to hear about several jobs in Colorado. If I hear, then things will move forward on the move. If I do not hear by the end of the week I am going to commit to staying in Texas 1 more year and giving it everything I've got to save money and get the things done to make the move more possible. (I.e., saving more money, writing more, etc.)

I am actually surprisingly okay with this. I have put real effort into making the move happen, and was to the point of desperation and making myself (and people around me) miserable. It hasn't worked. SO I am now going to try a more positive approach. No, I am not thrilled that it looks like it's going to take another year. No, I am NOT thrilled about all the people (well meaning and not) who will give me a hard time about that. But I promise not to strangle the little old lady who goes "Ho ho ho, guess you're stuck here forever. Better get used to it." (Although I have to admit, the last time it was a thought that had to be beat down with a mental club. Like most folks, I really don't enjoy getting laughed at. Go figure.)

I am also back on track working on the whole exercise and eating better thing. We'll see how long it lasts. But I'm going to keep track of that too.

SO, I'm keeping track of writing, fitness, and move prep. The goal is to do at least one small thing every day. Your mission (should you decide to accept it, and no, this isn't going to self-destruct in 10 seconds.) is to counteract all of the negativity and naysaying by giving me lots of positive input.

Now I am off to do said exercising AND to write.

Best to all of you. Wishing you a glorious new year.

OH, and I am going to quote Neil Gaiman's benediction for a new year because he said it better than I would (but then he usually does---which is also okay because he shares and I love reading it.)

Oh hell. I guess I'm not going to since the blasted thing won't cut and paste. LOL. But to paraphrase. He (and I, separately because of course I haven't met him) wish you magic and happiness, to be kissed by someone who thinks you're wonderful (and whom you hopefully think is wonderful as well) that you create art from the heart of you and you have joy and that sometime in the year you surprise yourself.

There, not as poetically written (duh), but still a fine wish for a joyous new year.

Blessings.




Cie

Happy BELATED Thanksgiving & More

Guten Morgen folks:

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

I'm sorry I didn't get to say that to you earlier, but I was on a last-minute trip to Denver for Thanksgiving with my son and a big job interview.

It was one of those trips.

You know how when things happen at the last minute they tend to have little glitches? (At least they do for me.) Well, boy did I get glitched. Left and right, front and back, fore and aft. Glitched, glitched, glitched. But because of the help of many people (some of whom I have no names for) things worked out fine. So, let me take a moment for a little belated Thanksgiving:

Thanks to the airline folks who caught the mechanical trouble and got our planes changed out. Thanks to the airport folks who got me a different connecting flight after my first flight was delayed due to mechanical difficulties. Thanks to the airport folks who found my lost luggage and got it to me before my interview. Thanks to the vet for taking care of my sick cat, and to his staff for putting up with my MANY MANY calls to see how he was doing. BIG MUCHO THANKS to Cathy for house and pet sitting. BIG MUCHO THANKS to Tonya for taking care of Lucky the Wonder Dog. BIGGER EVEN MORE MUCHO THANKS to Cathy for coming in for the save when my laptop was damaged and I had to call her and have her do rescue information research for me on the fly long distance. BIG MUCHO THANKS to the receptionist and the lovely woman from the Personnel Department at the Greeley Public Schools for their kindness, consideration, and timely intervention. Thanks to my boss in Brady for letting me take the time off. And of course, thanks to my son, for letting me stay with him and providing me with a true Thanksgiving Feast. I love you kiddo.

Whew. I probably missed somebody. But that gives you a clue as to the kind of wild nuttiness that went on.

BUT the keys to what success I have had in this life have mostly been: persistence, hard work, persistence, flexibility, oh, and did I mention . . . PERSISTENCE. So it worked out. I would like to think the interview went well. I'm terribly nervous in interviews, and I never really KNOW how I do. But I'm going to try to think positive.

In the meantime. Hope you had a wonderful holiday. Be happy and take care. I plan to.

Cie

Guten Morgen

Guten Morgen:

It's been quite a while since I have popped by either blog. Life has intervened. Not in a bad way. Just has. Part of it is that the body has had to adjust to sleeping more thanks to the new meds. Part of it has been simple busy-ness. And part of it has been that there really hasn't been a lot to say. Boring, but true.

But, I do believe boring may be over. I am looking on the bright side. Things are starting to happen. Some of them are pretty darned terrific too.

I have also popped back in the motivational cds. So if I sound like a cheerleader shaking her pom poms, bear with me. I need that energy to get all of the half-done projects to completion, the body back in shape, and the move from the stalled in quicksand stage to completion.

And I want to be happy.

I have LOTS to be grateful for. I am living my dream of being a writer. I have people and pets that I love and who (really somewhat surprisingly) love me. I have food on the table and a roof over my head. I get to do things like read most of the Janet Evanovich/Stephanie Plum novels in order if I want. (I went from Butcher to Harris to Evanovich. LOTS of reading lately.)

Mainly, what I've been doing in my absence from posting is trying to pull my head together. I've been very scattered and somewhat burnt out. (Oh hell, who am I kidding, there was no somewhat to it.) I couldn't focus enough to decide what I wanted, let alone go for it. Don't get me wrong, I had a general goal. But you have to know specifics if you want things to actually HAPPEN.

So, today is a day for specifics. I still have to do some householdy stuff (the laundry fairies have apparently decided not to put me on their list darn it. Same for the housekeeping gnomes). But I have a whole weekend, and I know how to use it.

Be afraid. Be very afraid.


BWAH HAHAHAHA.

Update

I have been reminded that, while I may not have the DISKS of the old origination stuff, I have all the e-mails back and forth and a great deal of other paperwork. SO, I still have enough back-up to verify the originations. Which is good. And of course Cathy has stuff.

I am now over being sore and stiff. This is also good.

One of the minions (bless her heart) is replacing the Simon Green books for me. :)

I am still putting together minion packets for those LOYAL AS A LABRADOR folks. :) Since I've broken through the exhaustion and am writing again, it may be a couple weeks. I will try to make it worth the wait.

Best.

Cie

Really Really REALLY Pooped

Okay, I don't know if I told you all this, but the other evening I saw a wet spot outside the garage door. I figured something spilled inside, and since I was late for work, I'd deal with it when I got home.

Well, it was a REALLY rough day at work, and I opened the door from the house into the garage and saw . . . disaster. TOTAL disaster.

Apparently the water heater sprang a leak and drained into the garage, so that all of the boxes on the bottom level were soaked. When they got soaked, they gave out, and all of the boxes on top tipped over, falling everywhere into a total wreck.

Today I got to clear out the garage, repack what could be saved, pitch what couldn't, while the landlord fixed the water heater.

I mostly lost books. Because, of course I have a Gazillion books and they're the heaviest, so they were on the bottom level. Gone is my complete collection of Agatha Christie; all but 2 of my Simon Green books, several of my Dick Francis mysteries, almost all of my writing reference books, one entire file cabinet worth of writing research, all of the bound and unbound original draft manuscript pages, old disks (which is no huge loss because they won't work in any of the computers I have now anyway but which I always kept for proof of the original origination of the various series); One or two of my idea notebooks; all of the certificates for the various awards my son won throughout his school career. (The trophies survived though.) Going through it was depressing, frustrating, and exhausting. But there you go. It could've been much, MUCH worse. So I am grateful. And now things are re-boxed nicely, labeled, re-taped, and in much better shape. So it's probably for the best. But I am going to take a LONG hot bath, (now that the water heater is working again) and go to bed.

G'night.


Cie

Dear Lackeys:

Dear Lackeys:

I have FINALLY found the address book with your e-mail addresses. (It was in a small notebook that was in with some tax stuff. Since I was passive-aggressively avoiding going through it for my accountant . . . well, you get the gist.)

Since I have NOT done anything for the lackeys and minions for simply ages I find myself wondering if I even still HAVE any lackeys and minions. YIKES. How can I be a not-so-evil overlord without underlings? I can't. It's that simple.

SO, I'm going to send out an e-mail in the next few days and post here and on MySpace and Facebook. (Probably not Twitter. They don't like me on Twitter. I don't know why, but POO on them!)

Those loyal lackeys and minions who respond will receive a special gift. New lackeys and minions will receive something suitable, but not nearly so nice. (Rank has its privileges after all.)

And for those of you who wondered about the calendars last year.

They didn't turn out well. They looked like crapola. So I couldn't bring myself to mail them to you. Spent the money, but -- there you go. Quality control and all that.

As for the writing. I have been on an enforced hiatus. My body insisted on more sleep due to stress from the day job and the fact that I caught the flu. The flu is now gone. SO, I'm hoping to be able to write again. Of course the first bits are always crap. You get out of shape and practice in writing just as you do in an exercise program. Which I also need to do.

ANYWAY, be well, be happy, and if you are a lackey or minion and want to support your overlord, e-mail me at catadamsfans@gmail.com with I AM LOYAL LIKE A LABRADOR in the Re.

Bestest.

Cie/C.T. Adams/1/2 of Cat Adams/Yes Ma'am your NSEO Ma'am

Short Story

Had an idea for a short story on the trip. Then got the flu coming back. Am now thinking of it and thought I'd do it as a special for the blog.

************************************************

Lovie's mama had never really believed in her talent. When, as a small child she'd run to her mother, looking for sympathy, she'd been met with a swat on the behind and told to "shut your lyin' mouth."

So she'd stopped telling. She kept it a secret from everyone. Everyone except Jewel Johnson, her very best friend in the whole world. Jewel knew. Jewel understood. Which was good. Because when things got very bad Lovie had someone to run to, someone to tell.

Like the night when mama's pimp decided to "teach her a lesson" use her as an example to keep the other ho's in line. Lovie woke in a cold sweat, lying in the bed next to Jewel, and she knew. Her mama was alone, afraid, and dying; bleeding her life away under a pile of garbage next to a dumpster in the alley between Second and Jefferson streets.

Crawling out of bed she tiptoed into the Johnson's kitchen where Geneva, Jewel's mama, had her cell phone on the charger. With trembling fingers she took the phone and dialed 9-1-1, praying that the person on the line would believe her.

That had been almost years ago. Mama never spoke of it. Grandma had picked Lovie up from school, driven her to get mama from the hospital, and just kept driving. All the way to Chicago. Now mama lived down the street from Grandma and Uncle Leroy and worked as a checker at the Quicki Mart. Lovie was the first one in the family to go to college. She lived in the dorm with a roommate who was never there, worked part time at the campus bookstore, and drove an old beater of a Toyota out to church and to visit the family pretty much every Sunday.

On the outside her life looked pretty ordinary. She worked hard to keep it that way. In spite of her talent.

Sunday night rolled around again. It had been a good day, in spite of the weather. It had been a cold day for spring, just this side of freezing, so that the mist-laden wind off the lake cut through you like a sharpened knife. Now that the sun was going down the moisture on the roads was starting to freeze forming black ice that was practically invisible and dangerous as hell. She closed the door to the dorm room behind her, tossing her purse and keys onto the battered old desk against the wall. Shrugging out of her jacket, she kicked off her shoes. She was glad to be home. Glad to be off the roads. The drive had really taken it out of her. And while she should probably study, she was too exhausted for it to do her any good. So she stripped off her clothes, pulled on the oversized tee-shirt she wore to bed most nights, and crawled beneath the covers. She figured she was too tired to dream.

She was wrong.

Okay guys. I'm out of gas. End of part one, draft one.

The Moment

One of the saddest moments in life is that instant when a dream dies.

All of us, whether we like to admit it or not, secretly believe that we're special, unique, and gifted. And maybe we are.

But we're not always gifted in the direction we want to be. And sometimes, even if we are, the timing is wrong, or life intervenes, and we suddenly look up and realize . . .

It isn't going to happen.

For whatever reason, there's no longer the chance of it coming true.

In that moment a part of you dies. Not even a little part. And the pain is incredible. Some people can't cope. They end it all because they're not willing to "settle." Others become bitter and angry, lashing out at everyone, but most particularly at those "lucky ones" who have succeeded in achieving the dream.

But I admire the others. The ones who look at the dream the way you look at a lost lover, with regret, some sadness, but an appreciation for something special that's time has ended. These are the people who find themselves another dream, a different one, one they can still achieve: the athletes in the paraplegic games, the wheelchair racers, the seventy year old who takes up painting for the first time.

And sometimes, surprisingly, the second dream becomes just as passionate, just as important, just as fulfilling. Maybe even more so. Yes, there will always be the bittersweet memory of what could have been. But the joy of what IS is enough to compensate for it.

There are other joys as well---smaller in scope, but no less important. The strength of a small child's hug when Grandma comes to visit. The awe-inspiring sight of meteors streaking across a midnight sky. Achievement is not everything. It is possible to be so goal oriented that you miss the journey--and the joy of living. What's the old joke -- "nobody on their deathbed ever says 'I wish I spent more time at work.'"

When the dream of a lifetime isn't achievable it's easy to believe that you're NOT important, NOT special, NOT worthwhile.

But it isn't true.


Just my thoughts. For what it's worth.
Cie

Sleep will be glorious

I am back from my back-to-back trips. The first, to Denver for the Mountains and Plains Independent Booksellers was wondrous in a businessy way. Of course my gorgeous business cards did NOT arrive in time, which means I will be sending "glad I met you notes" to some of the people I met with cards enclosed rather than just having traded cards at the event. Le sigh.

The second, a trip to visit my parents in Illinois was absolutely spectacular in the warm family way. I'd missed them horribly and am SOOOOOO glad I got to visit.

Also in there were the edits, and attempts at helping Cathy on the current manuscript, and the launch of Siren Song, etc. All of these are good and happy things.

But I am now freaking exhausted. Sleep tonight will be absolutely glorious.

I realized just HOW badly the lack of sleep was affecting me when I did not in the slightest remember the contests I'd put in a couple of blogs launching Siren Song. Didn't have a clue what the entrants were talking about. Told Cathy it must have been one of the ones she sponsored. She denied it vehemently. So I wrote the publicist and a couple other people asking them if they knew about it. Imagine my embarassment when, after I'd been driving an hour to the nearest city to deal with bill paying and business shopping emergencies I realized that I was the one who'd done it. At like 4:00 or 4:30 in the morning. So maybe I get a bye on the whole not remembering it thing. I'm REALLY not at my best in the early early morning.

One good thing about the travel. I started having some wonderful ideas for short stories and sticky plot points in the novels, which is quite cool.

I also am doing some things that are meant to help others (like the woman who needs to get her dog trained as an assistance animal and needs autographed quilt pieces which she will then use in the quilt she is putting up for auction to raise money. And other things for other people as well.

But for now, and the nonce, I am going to snug the puppydog and go to BED, where I will indulge in glorious sleep.

Best.

Cie

Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love you tomorrow . . .

All right. I am exhausted. Just about ready to fall into bed. Tomorrow is another early morning at which point THE EDITS WILL BE FINISHED. (WHOOOOOOOOOOO HOOOOOOOO!!!!) I will rush them off to the editor/publisher and then move on to the next huge frantic thing on my plate. Believe me, there is ALWAYS the next huge frantic thing.

I love the writing gig. But it is exhausting. And exhilerating. Must never, ever forget exhilerating. Because all my life I wanted to be able to say things like: "TOMORROW'S THE RELEASE DATE FOR THE NEXT BOOK." Which it is.

Which is freaking cool come to think on it. Not only was there one book. There have been MANY books. Enough that I can refer to the NEXT one knowing there were not only several preceding it, but are several more scheduled to follow. HOW COOL IS THAT?

Seriously, from the time I picked up my first picture book I wanted to be an author.

And I am.

So, no matter how much I whine about deadlines, (Which should really be called something else if you're not supposed to whine. I mean, really, DEADlines just BEGS for whining.) I love what I do. I love the blogs (like this one) that have no point, but are meant to keep me in touch with the folks who actually read the books, or the ones at places like BITTEN BY BOOKS where I get lots of new folks commenting on my supposedly intelligent post (you will note the qualifier. On days like today I'm really not sure how intelligent the post actually is.) and competing for a prize.

But now I am tired. Tomorrow the edits are due on Demon Song. Tomorrow is the release day for the NEXT BOOK Siren Song. This is my career and I am proud of it, and happy and honored that people enjoy playing in my imaginary worlds.

Joy to you all.

G'night.

Cie

I Need a Favor

Okay guys. I need a favor. I'm over at Bitten By Books today (off and on. I do have the day job). I need people to comment to get the ball rolling. Could you please stop by: http://bittenbybooks.com/p=30991 and comment. The good news is, one of the commentees will have their name drawn out of a hat to win an autographed copy of Siren Song and a $20.00 gift certificate to either Barnes & Noble or Borders.

On another note (C#) I am back from the Mountains and Plains Booksellers Convention in Denver. It was a WONDERFUL event, and I met lots of great book people. Book people are the best! Of course the travel wore me out. It always does. So I spent most of Sunday sacked out. I got up for church and to eat. That's about it. Oh, I did take a short walk in the evening to get the groceries so I COULD eat. But I think in the last 48 hours I've slept something like 30 of them. And I am now feeling MUCH better.

I got a migraine in the airport in Denver. It was bad enough that I needed to hurl. But I couldn't hurl for fear that my head would explode---and I'd survive it.

For those of you who think a migraine is just a "headache" let me give you a couple of comparisons: (End each with "as headache is to migraine")

Hill is to Everest . . .
Cup of water is to the Pacific Ocean . . .
$.01 is to the national deficit . . .

You get the idea.

Fortunately, I took something and after an hour or so I was reasonably functional---at least enough to get home. Thank God for medicine. Seriously.

Okay, I'm off.

Moody Day

Morning guys. Another fairly early one. 5:30. Was going for 4:30, but just couldn't make myself do it. Grumpy and a bit tired. I'll get over it though. I'm looking forward to the trip, even if it is only a quick hop. The cats won't even have time to get used to the housesitter. Just as well. I miss 'em when I'm gone more than a day or two.

Thrilled that I found out I am actually in an anthology with Neil Gaiman. How cool is that?

HAVE to get moving on some of the stuff on my plate. But this morning I AM WRITING.

Sometimes in the press of all of the other happy horseshit involved in "being a writer" I lose the time for actually doing the freaking job. But if there is no copy, there IS no job.

SO, I'm off to write. And just thinking that makes me smile. I'm beginning to wonder if that wasn't the source of the grumpies I was having. Too much time working on the business without enough time working on the creative. HMNNN. Something to think about.

UGH

Ugh. I am having a bad case of the don' wanna's. I need to go into the hot, box-filled garage again (I spent a couple hours there the other night) and look for the Guns and Ammo magazine that has Cathy's article in it, and also find the black suede skirt that is for dressy occasions that I was absolutely sure I woudn't need until after I moved, only now I DO need it.

Or, in the alternative, I need to gather receipts and enter them into Quicken on the new computer for taxes.

AND, I REPEAT.

I DON'T WANNA.

I have discovered that it has now been long enough since I had fun (as opposed to a nice time, which while, well, nice, is not FUN) that I may have forgotten how. THIS is a problem that requires attention. But apparently NOT today as I have to find my freakin' skirt before I do the upcoming appearance, and I really DID promise to find the freakin' magazine as well.

WAH!!

Interesting, but now what do I do with it?

Okay, I did a little test run to see if what I suspected was true. First, that my MySpace page has pretty much died from lack of attention. Next, for reasons known only to the mystics, folks on Twitter really don't pay attention to my posts. And for similar (or possibly different) unknown reasons the folks on Facebook are really into it and respond to me. I don't know if it's different demographics, or what. But Cathy does nada on Facebook and is really popular on Twitter. Very weird.

So I will probably do most of my marketing to Facebook. I mean, I had a contest for a signed copy of Siren Song to folks to responded and I am STILL getting entries the next day while I did not get a SINGLE RESPONSE on Twitter. Not one. (Listen to the sound of crickets.)

I will also try to do better about blogging so that maybe the folks here and on Myspace will come back. But that's trickier. Because while it is mostly stream of consciousness stuff, my consciousness has been pretty damn dammed lately. (Robust family of beavers moved in or something. I believe their last name is "EXHAUSTION")

And look, it's time for the day job again.

BYE.

Cie

4:48 and I'm at the Computer

4:48. I'm not sleeping. I've been writing. Not all that well, either. Sadly. If I'm not going to sleep, I at least would like to be putting out deathless prose. Alas, that is apparently not meant to be.

Stuff, Nonsense, and a Collection

Good morning.

I have just under ten minutes before the day job officially starts. I am in a good mood. For a Monday that is darned near miraculous so we should all look up and say "THANKS".

And now we return to our regularly scheduled programming.

I have been writing for a while now. Okay, let me rephrase that. I have been writing since I started learning to read. I have been being published regularly for a while now. Like a lot of writers I can't always tell you where inspiration comes from. But I do have "touchstones." When I'm writing a book it helps to have sensory input that puts me in the book reality instead of the office. And over the past few years I've collected one or two things per book.

So far the collection consists of (in no particular order, just how I remember them).

Framed prints of the covers of our books.

WIP -- A dragon pocketwatch with a blood red stone, ordered from e-bay, arriving soon; and a dragon ear-wrap earring, ditto and a set of Chinese dragon bells.

Timeless Moon -- A porcelain doll that I swear is exactly the way I saw Liselle/Amber in my head in her past.

Howling Moon -- A stuffed jaguar that Cathy gave me.

Blood Song - the photo that inspired the whole series for me and a bunch of music that speaks to me of the various characters.

Magic's Design - a statue of the tree of life. (Bonsai)

There's more, but I'm running out of time. But it is fun/cool being able to look at my shelves and see my touchstones, reliving the process of creating those worlds.

Officially Procrastinating

Okay, got up early. Got ready to write. Have now, checked e-mails, visited Facebook (I had an e-mail that somebody read the whole Thrall series back-to-back and loved them, I mean, how could I resist?), visited Twitter, have stopped by here. But I finally had to admit it was procrastination when I played solitaire. YES the deck on the new computer is really pretty, but COME ON.

SO, while yesterday at work sucked big-scum-covered-pond-rocks with a Hoover, and I am just about as empty-headed as a human being can possibly be, I am not going to blog any longer. I am going to fess up to my procrastination and kick it in the nu..... teeth. Kick it in the TEETH.

Toodles.

Where have I been?

Okay, things have been nutsoid.

Day job has been shorthanded and balls-to-the-wall busy and stressful, and since it's summer there have been vacations to work around (including my time off to go to Colorado and look at the house).

There have been the negotiations on said house. We have hit snags, but I think it will work out.

There have been the financial arrangements to try to get said house (time consuming and a pain in the patoot since most banks aren't thrilled when most of your income is through self-employment).

My computer died (after ten years of hard use) and I had to shop, find one I wanted, buy it, install it, load the modem software, load all of the other software, unload the stuff that won't work with Windows 7, swear, find other software to replace that stuff (YES it was old, but it did what I wanted the way I wanted darn it).

Because of the paragraph above I got behind on oh, you know, that whole WRITING thing.

And things still aren't slowing down.

SO, I can officially say that until mid-November, I will probably be visiting only sporadically.

BUT I MISS YOU.