Flash Nano/Nanowrimo 2021 Final Update

November is over. I certainly didn’t write every day, nor did I ‘win’ Nanowrimo. However, I wrote twenty-four stories in thirty days. So I definitely did well. My final word count was 10213. I accomplished my goal, which was to write as many pieces of flash fiction as possible, on as many days as I could.

At first, I didn’t see myself getting anywhere close to a story a day. Honestly, I would have been happy with 5 or 6. You can imagine how thrilled I am to end up with as many as I did.

Some days I wrote more than one story and other days I didn’t even look at my pencil. There were plenty of times I didn’t think I had a story in me at 11 pm but decided to try anyway and got great stuff out of it. The main thing is I didn’t let myself stand in my own way, though I tried a few times.

I hope to keep up this momentum and keep cranking out fiction but not every day. I don’t want to burn myself out again after finally waking up my muse again.

I’ll probably keep the same schedule of writing as I did all month: writing late. During the day I work on making plushies and bags so there isn’t time to write then. In the mornings I suffer through allergy hell, which delays the start of my workday. It’s not smart to work with needles and machinery when you can’t see through tears. I bought some eye drops that might help but nothing else has so I don’t have a lot of confidence there.

My allergy crying normally stops around lunchtime so I think I’ll try writing in the mornings again as well as late at night. I could type with my eye closed so difficulty seeing the keyboard or monitor isn’t an issue. If I want to write manually I can keep using a pencil. Tears can only do so much damage and my handwriting is horrendous so not much change there.

Now that I have a little confidence back I need to work on motivation and discipline.

So, for me, Nanowrimo and Flash Nano 2021 were both successes. I got what I wanted out of it and I’m happy. Hopefully next year there will be in-person events and even more stories. Until then I’ll keep writing and updating.

Flash Nano Update Day 14

Flash Nano is going pretty well for me. I haven’t managed to write a story every day but I did write 16 stories in thirteen days. This is the most my muse has been active in a long time. I don’t know my word count because I didn’t count the last 3 or 4 stories but I doubt I’m over 5000.

Nanowrimo word counts mean nothing to me now. They haven’t in several years. What I look for every November is to get back to writing regularly. I especially need it this year.

After all the things that happened to stop me from writing, I could really use this. What a confidence boost it is to write so much! Obviously, I don’t expect to write every day from now on but I do hope I’ll find a way to write as often as I can. For so long I wanted to write but couldn’t. Now I can write but I lack my previous discipline. I’m headed in the right direction thanks to this challenge.

As for the content, well, I don’t love every story but there are a few real gems in there. The ones I don’t love have potential (except one). Even the one I wrote that isn’t truly flash could turn into a great longer story. If I have trouble coming up with a new story any time during the rest of the month I intend to add to that starter.

The most encouraging thing to happen is I keep finding myself coming up with new ideas, plot twists, etc for novels I started before my time of tribulation, otherwise known as the two-ish years gabapentin fogged up my head, stole my concentration, and smothered my muse. I thought I’d never get back to those stories. I’m not all the way there but finding new ways to mess up my protagonists’ lives is amazing!

I’ll post a couple more updates before the end of the month. I’ll even take the time to count my words by then. Maybe.

Flash Nano Update

I’m writing! Since this is the first steady writing to come out of me in a very long time, I’m a bit overly excited about it. I can’t say I’m anywhere close to Nanowrimo word count goals but who cares? Not me.

Six stories in as many days are sitting in my spiral waiting for me to edit them (after Nano is finished). That’s something to celebrate for me. Even better, they don’t all suck. Some do. One, in particular, is complete trash, but I like most of them. Each one gives me something to work with. You can’t make a story great if you don’t have anything written.

I don’t know if I’ll be able to write a piece of flash fiction every day this month but I know I’ll try. Accomplishing this so far gave my confidence a huge boost. The more confidence I have in my ability to write, the more I will write.

Also, I finished a book! It’s the first one in probably a year. I’m halfway through the next. I got so into this one I’ve been reading it while on the elliptical at the gym. In fact, reading while on that machine has enabled me to ignore the clock, and each day I go for a little longer. Bonus!

I feel like I’m getting myself back again. My muse is more active and I’m thinking about stories more often. I was running through ideas while grocery shopping yesterday. When I took a break to eat lunch I ended up writing a very short piece of flash fiction. 121 words, which I will edit down to a 100-word story. The story absolutely had to come out of me right then in the middle of the day while out and about. That hasn’t happened in two years, at least!

So everything is going well. My grand total word count is only 2,872 but it feels like a million. Fingers crossed I’ll have hundreds more to update you on later in the month!

On a side note, I got to use the word ‘haboob’ in a story

Nanowrimo/Flash Nano 2021

It’s been a while, but I’ve decided to participate in Nanowrimo this year. I almost didn’t because I simply didn’t have any ideas, and I haven’t written regularly in a long time. It’s difficult for me to believe I could actually succeed, so I had a why bother attitude.

Then a friend in my writing group told me about Flash Nano. The intent is to write a piece of flash fiction every day in November. My interest was peaked. I’m still nervous because this slump has had its claws in me for so long, but it’s not as scary as trying to write a 50,000-word novel at this point.

Flash fiction stories appeal more right now. Let’s examine the benefits for someone in my position.

• Writing 1000 words or less in a day is less terrifying
• Finishing a short work gives a sense of accomplishment which raises my confidence level
• Flash fiction ideas come from all over so there are more chances I’ll find something to write about
• I already know how to write flash fiction which leads to…
• Once upon a time I wrote flash all the time and I was good at it, which goes back to confidence
• Assuming I only worry about one story at a time I won’t get overwhelmed
• There are many more bullets I could add but I’ll end with writing flash (for me specifically) is the most likely way I’ll get back to writing regularly

My writing funk/slump/block/whatever the hell you want to call it started with a medication making me cloudy and forgetful. I got off that medication, but my current one has a similar if lesser effect on me. This I can probably work through, but there are other issues. I also can’t seem to read. I was always a reader and I adore books. Stories are magic for me. When the concentration issues began, I had trouble getting through a book. Eventually, it became a chapter, working its way to a time thing. I can’t focus on reading for longer than about 10 minutes.

If you don’t read, you can’t write. Not well. In my case, I think it became more literal. Man, did that suck! Then there is the mental toll a problem like this exacts. The horrid cycle seemed never-ending.

Things are slowly changing. Recently I read 40% of a book in a couple of hours. Not long after, I wrote a few flash fiction pieces. I finished that book a couple of nights ago. Then, last night starting at midnight at the Nanowrimo kickoff event, I wrote a 718-word story. There has to be a correlation for me.

I didn’t know what I was going to write about when I started. Nothing was mapped out or even thought about beforehand.

My only prep was while the Zoom call was going and others were talking about what they would write, I looked through some writing prompts. If they interested me, I wrote them on the first line of a new page in a spiral and went to the next page. I ended up with eight prompts but most didn’t spur any ideas beyond the obvious images the prompt seemed meant to invoke. However, there were a couple I almost believed could work.

I say almost because I had no faith in my ability to ‘make shit up’ at this point. Nevertheless, I was determined to try.

So I picked the one my must kept tossing at me. Honestly, of the ones I thought I could write about, this one seemed the least promising.

Rae sat atop the piano waiting for the music to start

When I first read it, I felt a glimmer of a spark, which I quickly dismissed. I kept making my way through my list, but I kept thinking about that stupid piano. I did NOT want to write about a lounge singer. I would not. I had a different prompt all picked out, and at 11:58, I turned back to Rae and stared at my page in disgust. I can only hope I didn’t make the face that matched my feelings because Zoom picks up everything.

Midnight hit and the ML said to start, and I did precisely that. I didn’t know what was going to come out of me, but if it had to be about a singer in a red dress in a smoke-filled room getting ready to sing to a gangster or some shit, I would write it. I was desperate to get any amount of words on the paper.

I’m pretty sure I held my breath as I wrote my first sentence following the prompt. To my surprise, more sentences followed. They kept coming. The story grew and changed and exploded out of me. I wrote with a pen because I thought I might write out the bones of a story, and I like to do that freehand.

My ballpoint pen annoyed me, so I switched to a gel pen. I found myself making a mess on my page, so I grabbed a pencil. What a strange sensation it was using a writing utensil I never use!

The smoke-filled room I dreaded never made an appearance. No singing was heard by my characters. Red dress? I have no clue; I didn’t have time for much description. I was too busy writing what happened as opposed to how it looked. I couldn’t get the words out fast enough. My story centered around ghostly music and a woman trying to solve the mystery of what she heard. There is nothing ‘expected’ about it, which suits my style.

I won’t claim it is the best story I ever wrote, but it is undoubtedly the most satisfying piece I’ve done in a long time. Because I wrote it. I wrote something, anything. More importantly, I wrote a complete story with potential. I find it intriguing, and it will be fun to expand on eventually. I’m sure I’ll pick it apart and destroy it later because I’m a writer. It’s my job to over criticize everything I do. For now, I’ll be happy.

Words are in me, trying to get out. Look at this post, with three times as many words than necessary! I need to keep finding ways to access them. I’m hoping Nanowrimo and Flash Nano will help me.

If I can work up the nerve, I’ll post my story sometime this week but don’t hold your breath. Breaking through shaken confidence is hard! To anyone out there doing Nanowrimo, good luck! Don’t stress, just write.

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

Everything Update

Writing: I’m technically signed up for Camp Nanowrimo but haven’t written at all in July. I made some notes but that’s it.

I bought Save the Cat and snowflake method books a couple of months ago. I tried so hard with the snowflake but I despise the book format so much I can’t get through it. I don’t want to read about how Goldilocks did it!

As for Save the Cat, so far I’ve gotten a little out of it but haven’t read very far in. I’m quite distracted by something else. More on that later.

I still plan on trying to do some writing this month, even if only for a short time every day (every writing day, not seven days a week). We’ll see if I can manage it. I don’t know why I’m struggling to get back into it, besides my distraction, but I’ll keep working towards a regular writing schedule.

New Hobby: On to what is distracting me. Sewing! If you knew me well this would shock you. I’m not exactly the ‘crafty’ type. Get a hot glue gun near me and I’ll feel threatened. Ask me to make a wreath to save my life and I’m dead. Paper crafts? Forget it! Sewing is different. It is not a craft in my eyes. It is a useful skill. It took me thirty years or so to come to this conclusion.

It all started with masks. I wanted my family to have some so I cut up some old T-shirts and got out some needles and thread. They took forever! Surprisingly, they turned out okay. I made some for a friend and then tried different patterns. Through it all, I was having fun. Fun with sewing. What the hell? How could I possibly have so much fun with something so…girly?

Then one day I randomly had an epiphany. Who gives a shit if I like something girly? Pardon the language but since it’s a quote I typed it word for word. I’d secretly been considering getting a sewing machine for a few days by that point. By secretly I mean I wasn’t admitting it to myself. I started looking at prices online.

Not long after my evening of research, I was at Walmart and I went into the fabric section. Sitting on a shelf, all by itself, was a sewing machine. I knew they had been selling out all over town so I followed the siren call and walked over. It was the one I’d more or less decided I would get, eventually. I seriously thought I’d be getting one in a couple of months. I even reminded myself of this as I put the box in my cart.

Floodgates open, I roamed the area and picked up everything else I thought I would need to get started. The last time I did any sewing was thirty years ago. I knew the basics but obviously, I was rusty, or so I believed.

You know the saying “it’s like riding a bicycle?” Applicable. I took to it as easily as I could have possibly imagined. I really thought it would be hard but it wasn’t. That’s not to say I haven’t had issues. You would laugh at my first zipper attempts. I still need practice with those.

The first things I made were masks, which were a thousand times better than my hand-sewn attempts. I bought fabric and made new styles and got good at it. To date, I’ve made some for everyone in my immediate family, my parents, in-laws, my best friend (who was patient as I tried many styles out on him), a few of my son’s coworkers, several of my husband’s coworkers, and most recently my brother and sister-in-law.

My sister-in-law posted a picture on Facebook of her and my brother wearing masks at the gym and said it was torture. I noticed the one my brother was wearing was ill-fitting and hers appeared too thick.

Of course, I pulled out my phone and texted her. She asked if I had black fabric. Miraculously I did (it’s so hard to get), so I got to work. I made two different styles that I thought would be better to work out in than what they had and I dropped them off on their porch (I believe in social distancing).

About half an hour later I got a very excited text from her. She loved the masks and she wanted me to make some for five of her family members. Yes, I was flattered. More importantly, I’m happy that she and my brother can work out more comfortably.

Also, for the last week or so, I’ve been making masks to send to New Jersey. My mother-in-law asked if I’d like to make some to sell in her shop. I told her I’d make up a few of each style and send them to see how it goes. I’ll finish those today or tomorrow. I’m also making her and my father-in-law a new style of mask. They both had trouble finding ones they liked, which prompted me to send the first ones to them. They like those but these other ones might work better.

If the ones I’m making to sell do well then I’ll bring more with me when we head up there to see them next month. We might have to get tested for Covid before we go since we live in Texas. That area requires people traveling from Texas to quarantine. It’s a mandate in New York. I don’t think it is in New Jersey but I’ll look into it.

Even if we just hang out at their house, we want to go. We only get to see them once a year. If we don’t go then by the time we see them again it will have been two years. Not on option unless the state flat out bans travelers.

I couldn’t blame them if they did. A lot of the people in my state have behaved as if they don’t have a brain. It seems like half of them won’t wear a mask just because someone told them to. Okay, toddlers. It’s not oppression it’s just inconvenience.

Anyway, so now sewing is my official hobby. It’s my second hobby ever. My first was writing back when I began but it became more than a hobby a long time ago. I haven’t had a real hobby for a long time. I play video games but I do it on and off with my husband. Sewing is a solo thing.

I adore it. I hope to get good enough to make shirts. I don’t know why shirts specifically but there you have it. I’ll do it. It will be a slow process but I’ll get there.

Sidenote: I’m taking my sewing machine with me on vacation. I’m making Christmas gifts for everyone in my family and I have a lot of relatives. Two weeks of no sewing would be a disaster. Plus, I just want to, haha.

Medical: Things aren’t terrible. I had an injection not too long ago. I still have bad back days but it’s been worse so I try not to complain too much. Leaning over my sewing doesn’t help but I’m learning ways to make it all work.

Back in August, I switched nerve pain meds. Since that time I’ve lost over twenty pounds! I knew that stupid medication was keeping that weight on. I didn’t change anything about my lifestyle, with the exception of NOT going to the gym anymore due to Covid, so I know it was the medication change.

I couldn’t be happier. It’s a happy hassle to have to go buy new clothes. I’ve picked up T-shirts here and there but still need pants. I had bought smaller pants a couple of months ago when I thought my weight was leveled out. Now they are also too big. Thanks to whoever invented belts.

I don’t mind continuing to wear those for a while. However, we’re going on vacation. Jeans aren’t going to cut it. So sometime soon I’ll get out and find some shorts and maybe capri-pants. A couple more tees and some tanks. I don’t want to spend a lot because I can’t guarantee I’ll stay at my current weight. I hope so, it’s a really healthy weight for me. Almost ideal actually.

Once upon a time, I was underweight. All my life until I had babies. People always asked me if I was eating. Boy was I! I had a high metabolism and could eat whatever I wanted. While I miss the latter I don’t miss the former. I didn’t like myself too skinny. I look and Am more healthy now.

Everything Else: Life isn’t so bad right now. My husband is an essential worker so life didn’t change a lot with the pandemic. The sucky part is I don’t see most of my kids very often and I miss visiting my mom and my grandma. But I will do whatever is needed to protect them. My grandma is 90 years old. For all I know I’m a carrier. So I call her instead of seeing her. I’ve seen my mom a couple of times but mostly we stick to the phone.

My writing group started doing Zoom calls so I get a tiny bit of social-ness once a week. There will be Skype calls for camp Nanowrimo all month (though I missed the first one because I was dizzy last night).

I managed to get a haircut for the first time since August. I was scared to get out but I’m growing my hair out and it was a mess. I needed professional help. I picked a place I knew would enforce all the mandates and risked it. Everyone in the place had a mask and I saw a lot of cleaning going on. I was quite impressed with the measures they took. That said, I won’t risk getting another haircut for a long time. My hair is past my chin right now and my goal is just shy of my shoulders. I can afford to put off doing anything until then.

My husband and I are on binging kicks. We watched every Star Wars movie and show (except Resistance, bleh) in timeline order. Then we moved onto Harry Potter, which we finished last night. I’m not sure what we’ll do next but I did manage to get him to watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer. He didn’t hate it so I guess we’ll go back to that. He also agreed to watch the first episode of Orphan Black. I warned him it’s really weird but I think the pace of the show will pull him in. Whatever we watch, it’s a nice way for him to unwind after work without having to think about what we want to do.

That’s all I can think of for now. I hope everyone is doing well and staying safe.

Everything Update

Writing: I’m getting there. Slowly. For over a year, I haven’t written much due to some awful side effects of a medication I kicked to the curb. We’re talking depression, mental fog, irritability (no, not all of that can be blamed on gabapentin), next to no ability to concentrate, and straight-up memory loss. There were more issues, but I only listed the most troublesome.

Sounds like a medical update, right?  The point is, now I’m on a new medication (since August), and all of the bad side-effects are gone. I hoped I would jump back into writing right away, but it was not to be. Turns out, I didn’t instantly get back my hard-earned discipline and great writing habits!

I will. Writing every day isn’t an option for me anymore, but I’m working on writing every day I can. It comes in spurts. I do writing exercises as often as my muse shows up though the real issue is a ‘butt in chair’ issue. Technically I’m in the chair, but getting started is difficult. Part of it is the bad habit of not writing. However, I know myself well enough to know the true problem is fear.

What if I can’t do it anymore? What if the meds stole my muse like they did my memory? What if I Can do it again but I suck? Blah, blah, typical writer self-abuse. Yet, this time it’s scarier. There is a sprinkling of reality in my fears. For a year, I really couldn’t do it anymore. My muse was non-existent, and the few times I got words on paper, THEY SUCKED! I know things are different now, but until I write something good, I’ll worry. Then I’ll worry some more.

This is going to be a long hard road for me. All I can do is try. I need to find my writing discipline/motivation/inspiration again. Perhaps writing blog posts again will help. When I post here, I don’t really worry if it is well written or follows elements of style or reads like a term paper with proper paragraph usage. I simply think with my fingers and the mess you’re reading flows out.

Take this post, for example. I knew I was going to write an update, but I didn’t have any particular plan. I didn’t even know where to start. It took me ten minutes to type the first sentence, but once I did, 400 words came out (and counting).

Which leads me to the next update:

Blog: I plan to write more blog posts. As of now, I don’t know what they will be about. I do want to work on my compound sentence issue. Grammarly lets me know it hates me every time I use one. It also tells me this post sounds disapproving.

One of my goals is to write and post at least one piece of flash fiction or a short story every month. At one point, I was writing and posting close to a hundred. I won’t pressure myself to get back to that level. Not yet, anyway. I do hope to get into some kind of regular rhythm though. I have a huge list of ideas to work with so I’m not as nervous as I could be.

Expect a lot of opinions because I still have those and I’m sure my husband and my best friend are tired of being my only outlet for them.

Perhaps a rant of two? Definitely some ramblings about writing, life, people, etc.

Medical: Life sucks, whatever. I’m tired of bitching about it.

Everything else: 1. My husband and I are binging Grimm. This is pertinent because it involves a lot of fairy tale creatures. Two of my biggest projects involve mythical beasties. One for adults and one for children. Every time we watch an episode (or four in a row), I feel inspired. So far, this has manifested in notes and ideas for my stories but no serious writing yet.

2. There is a comic convention coming to my city at the end of February, and I always get enthusiastic about those. Enthusiasm equals happy muse.

3. I got a new desk. A huge executive desk. The kind I’ve wanted for years (ever since I had to give up my last big desk). It takes up most of the space in my office because I placed it squarely in the center! Every time I manage to get any writing done, it’s while sitting at my perfect desk. Did I mention I love my desk?

That’s all for now. Hopefully, my next update will be more writerly!

Man, How I Missed Me

I have some strong feelings about prescription medication right now. I’m taking more than I ever thought I would and I need each one. It sucks, but what can you do, right? Assuming your doctor is competent, he/she wouldn’t prescribe something unless you need it.

As much as I don’t like it, I take my meds and bitch about it in private. However, I don’t think I should keep my recent experience to myself. So I’m going to share. Before I start my rant, I want to state that every person can react differently to a medication. Just because someone has a bad experience doesn’t mean you will too. Don’t let what you read here scare you but do let it remind you to be cautious and vigilant.

I’ve been taking gabapentin since 2016. Six weeks after my back surgery (spinal fusion), my toes were suddenly on fire. Or they itched. Or both. I didn’t know exactly how to describe it. The doctor at a small clinic said peripheral neuropathy. She explained that some nerve damage was common after surgeries such as mine. It could be temporary or permanent. Guess which mine was?

She wrote a prescription and told me to notify my pain management (PM) doctor as he would be issuing every RX for it after this one. My PM guy agreed with the first doc’s assessment, and I added this new med to my pillbox.

At first, I was happy. The pain went away; of course, I was thrilled. I didn’t even have many side effects. I read everything I can find on adverse side effects because I’m often one of those .0000002 percenters who have weird reactions. Luckily I only had weird, extremely vivid dreams. I thought I got off easy.

Fast forward a couple of years. I was always a little forgetful, but I became what I referred to as ‘flighty.’ It got worse as the year went on and I started to worry. I was writing less and less because I couldn’t seem to concentrate for longer than ten minutes at a time. There were days when I had to think hard to remember if I’d taken a shower in the last day or two.

I was feeling down almost all the time. At the time, I refused to use the word depression because I didn’t think I needed to see a shrink. I was a dumbass. As long as I didn’t use that dirty word, I didn’t have to take it seriously.

Brain fog is how I would describe what happened in my head. Anger was my number one emotion. It’s easier to be pissed off than scared.

Dizziness and headaches were frequent. Anxiety reared its ugly head. I cried more often than I ever had. I was restless and at times, unsteady. You know when you get up too fast, and you get dizzy and unsteady? It was like that, but the unsteady would stay for a little while.

Soon I started feeling weak fairly often, and I had trouble sleeping. I was a mess. Most of these symptoms I ignored or just dealt with them. But there were a few that bothered me more.

My lack of concentration was a big deal. I couldn’t write. I could start but never get far. It seemed like I couldn’t access my muse. ‘She’ was locked up in solitary confinement, and I could only wave at her.

Anxiety always sucks but to feel it as often as I did, sometimes with no explanation was horrible. But the worse symptom was the one that started me on the road to fixing this situation: depression.

Everyone has times when they are down, and a lot of people go through depression at some point in their lives. For me, I never stay down for long. So feeling this way for at least a year was strange, wrong. Of course, I’d never been through chronic pain depression, which is what I thought my problem was.

I read all about what prolonged pain can do to a person, and I thought ‘oh crap, I guess I have to live with this.’ I was almost to the point of asking my doctor if there was anything that would help. If you know me, you know that’s a big step I never want to take.

One of the medications I take is Tramadol. It is a synthetic opioid. I react badly to hydrocodone and meds like it so Tramadol is all I can take. Since it’s a ‘big’ pain reliever, I became convinced it was the source of all my troubles.

A lot of the adverse reactions that could happen with its use described my life! Part of me was relieved. I believed I knew what the problem was. However, I was screwed! I couldn’t take anything else, and my only other option is another spinal fusion, which wouldn’t completely fix everything. Well, there is one more drug I can take, but it’s some serious shit. The kind of thing they give you in the hospital after surgery. NOT HAPPENING!

Around the time of all this research I realized I was overdue for a physical. I made a massive list of all the things I needed to talk to the doctor about and made an appointment. I told her all my symptoms and asked if she thought it was Tramadol and if she had any suggestions.

Her answer changed my life! She said: “Actually, I think it might be the gabapentin.”

I’m not exaggerating when I say I almost fell off the table/bed. She pulled up symptoms on her computer and read some off to me. My mind and my heart raced. I barely heard her when she said there were other medication options. She said to talk to my pain management guy and told me to have hope.

I did both.

The next day I was sitting in the PM doc’s office, describing my symptoms while the doctor nodded in agreement. They took me off gabapentin (slowly) and put me on Lyrica (also slowly). It sucked because my toes expressed their displeasure in the form of the weird itch/burn. I was warned that Lyrica could cause similar reactions, but there are a lot of patients who react badly to one of the two meds and fine to the other.

I’ve only been on the new med for a few weeks, but so far it’s incredible. For the first time in about a year, I feel like ME again. I didn’t realize how bad it had gotten until the symptoms went away.

Brain fog, what brain fog? Memory issues? Well, my memory always sucked, but it’s back to a reasonable level. Concentration? I haven’t gotten distracted once while writing this post, so I’d say I’m okay there. I even know when I’ve showered, lol.

I haven’t felt anything resembling depression. For the first time in a long time, I have hope. Last week I sat down to write three different days, and it worked. I wrote, a lot actually, on each of those days. I’m going to write (fiction) today as well. Hopefully, that writing won’t have as many compound sentences as this post, but words are words, and I’m happy for any that hit the page!

I have no way of knowing if the new medication will cause the same issues, but I figure I have a little time. The gabapentin didn’t wreck me until I’d taken it for two years. I hope Lyrica won’t destroy me too, but until (and if) I start having bad symptoms, I’m going to live my life and enjoy being me again.

Again, I want to state that everyone is different, and just because I had a bad time with these meds doesn’t mean you or your loved ones will. My step-dad and my Grandmother are both on gabapentin and aren’t reacting as I did. In fact, my step-dad has been taking it for much longer than I did and is fine.

I do want to stress vigilance and knowledge. Learn as much as you can about anything you put into your body. Don’t let what you read scare you, though. You may never have the possible side effects, but if you do, you’ll know to talk to your doctor about the medication.

Wish me luck as I get back to writing!

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Sidenote: to give you an idea of how different life is for me now, this post is over 1400 words. Even two months ago I either wouldn’t be capable of writing this, or it would take me hours or days. This took about 20 minutes.

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Photo by kgrkz on Unsplash

 

Flash Fiction – Boots

“No, thank you,” the scullery maid said in frustration.

“Come on,” the fairy godmother wheedled. “You need me!”

“I have everything I need here. Now leave me be.”

“I can’t do that. You’re my charge, and it’s my duty to do whatever will make you happier.”

“You want me to be happy? Then go away!”

“Nope, not an option. I have to give you things and find a way to change your life for the better. I’m not leaving until I figure out what it will take to do just that.” The fairy crossed her arms and stared down the girl.

“Hmm, well I could use a sturdy pair of boots that actually don’t pinch.”

The godmother’s mouth dropped open. “Boots,” she said in a dead voice.

“Yes, preferably brown so they go with more outfits.”

“Boots. You have access to nearly unlimited power, and you ask for boots.”

Cindy nodded. “That’s all I need.”

“Wouldn’t you like a pretty dress and an invitation to the ball?

“I already have those things.”

“How about some friendly animal friends?”

“I’m allergic to pet dander.”

“Glass slippers?”

“I’d only break them or lose one. Besides, those are not as useful as boots.”

“Magic apple?”

“I’m don’t like fruit.”

“What? What kind of person doesn’t like fruit?”

“This kind obviously.”

“I could make you a beautiful carriage, complete with driver and footmen.”

“I have no use for things that disappear at midnight, fairy!”

“I could make something permanent. Want a magic horse?”

“Can you make it not have dander?”

“Well, no.”

“Then no thank you.”

“What do you want then? I can’t leave until I do something that will improve your life.”

“I really could use those boots.”

“Ugh, fine. I’ll make your stupid footwear. But, they are going to be magic boots!”

“I don’t need…”

“Shut it! This is what we call compromise.”

Cindy closed her mouth and sat down in her dressing chair. The fairy concentrated a moment, then waved her wand, perhaps a little harder than necessary, and the air around the woman’s feet shimmered.

“Take off your shoes.”

The girl complied. The shimmering changed to a glow. It grew slowly brighter until both women had to look away. When the light finally faded the scullery maid wore a beautiful pair of brown boots, well cut and perfectly fitted.

“You are the bane of my existence, and I’m glad my obligation to you is fulfilled. I think I’ll let you figure out the magic of these damn boots. I will NEVER see you again; you ungrateful wretch.”

With that, the fairy vanished. The girl immediately took off the boots. She pulled up several floorboards, revealing a large stash full of strange, glowing objects. Digging around a moment, she found a shining cloth and quickly used it to wrap the boots tightly before putting both into the hole. She secured the boards in place again and pulled a rug over them.

 

“You can come in now,” she called.

Her husband peeked into the room. “Is she gone?”

“Yes, it was a close one this time.”

“What did you ask for?”

“Boots.”

The man stared a moment, then started laughing. “I bet she didn’t like that.”

“Not at all. Maybe I made her mad enough to remove me from her list. She said she was never coming back.”

“I doubt it.”

“Me too. It sucks having a forgetful fairy godmother.”

“It goes beyond forgetful. She is very old, poor thing. It’s very kind of you to keep this room and wear those old clothes for her.”

“I don’t like tricking her, but she gets so upset when I wear my nice dresses. Making her happy is the least I can do after all she’s done for us.”

“I’m sorry, my love. Shall I send for your chambermaid? The ball starts in an hour.”

“Yes please.”

 

He crossed to the door and called to the servant.

“Are you curious about what the boots can do?”

“No! If her gifts weren’t meant to change my life, I would use them. Remember that time I took the magic sword and ran off for a month chasing dragons?”

They shared a laugh at the memory.

“No, I’m never using anything she gives me again. I like my life just the way it is.”

The door opened. “I have your gown ready, your Majesty,” the chambermaid announced.

Cindy’s husband, the king, kissed her hand and turned to leave. “See you at the ball. You should wear the glass slippers for old times sake.” He ducked to avoid her thrown hairbrush. “Happy fiftieth anniversary,” he said, quickly closing the door behind him.

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Sometimes I like to write stories that are almost entirely dialog, that can be read without being confused by who is talking. I didn’t quite succeed, but I’m happy with the result, though it’s a rough draft.

This piece was written in Firehouse Subs one Sunday as I ate lunch before heading to my writing group. The place was packed and loud, but somehow I had a random Cinderella idea pop into my head, and I grabbed my spiral and started writing.

It originated with watching an elderly woman and thinking about dementia. It’s a serious subject, but what-if questions started popping up. What if the fairy godmother became forgetful? So a story was born. I hope it doesn’t offend anyone dealing with a friend or family member with dementia.

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Photo by Oziel Gómez on Unsplash

Word Count 774 words

Sidenote: Pardon the terrible formatting. Between this theme hating tab and copy and pasting from Word, well, you see the result.

Stop Bringing Me Down!

You know the type. The melancholy girl, the persecuted guy. That one person you know who spreads their own brand of misery wherever they go. Maybe you’re unlucky enough to have several of them in your life.

There are a few for me, and each one is unique, and I have to handle them differently. Quite frankly, it’s exhausting and potentially detrimental to me. What does that even mean?

Let me give you one of my examples. One of the biggest downers in my life, we’ll call her Sarah, has affected me in ways I am only now realizing. Between her negativity and ‘poor me’ attitude, she tapped into my overly developed empathy and brought me so low I’m not sure how to pull myself back out of the hole she dug for me.

I’ve barely written in months. For some reason, every time I sat down to work doubts, fears, and sadness overwhelmed me to the point of immobility. I stared at my pen or screen and did…nothing. Why should I? It was going to suck anyway. Why bother to try when I would fail in the end. Why move that pen when only junk would come out of it.

WHAT THE BLOODY HELL? That wasn’t me talking! Well, it was the old me, but not the me who wrote steadily for many years now. Nor the me who overcame those fears long ago. So who was it?

Sarah. Poor sad, despondent Sarah. The woman who enjoys living in her hell and spreads her misery in all directions. We all have some degree of empathy. For me, it’s so stupidly strong that I will start actually to feel the intense emotions of those around me. It sucks. I don’t see Sarah all that often, but it’s enough that her wretched aura got to me. For months.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not blaming everything on the girl. I’m fully capable of screwing myself over with writing. However, in this case, she shares some of the blame. The truth is, she’s brought down my entire writing group. All of us have been down for months. Empathy is real people, and we have little control over it. She doesn’t mean to bring those around her down, but damn, she’s good at it. Just like I don’t intend to let it get to me.

Ironically, she complains when others do it to her. She once told a group I was in that she hates people exactly like her. HA!

Anyway, what can one do to guard against someone else affecting you in this way? Wish I knew. I do have some guesses though, things I will try to put into action.

Avoid the source of misery. Sometimes this is mostly impossible. What if it’s a close friend or family member? Unless you live with the person, you can limit the time you spend with them. No matter how you feel about someone, if they are toxic, you need to get away at least some of the time.

Tell them. Okay, this one is hard, and I won’t be doing this. It will only add to her problems. Guilt won’t change her anyway.

Encourage them. This won’t work. Not if they don’t want it to. Some people are content being down. It can be a comfortable alternative to effort and accountability. Still, if they are in your life, you probably care about them, and your good will might mean a lot. Besides, empathy works both ways. Maybe your positivity will fight against their opposing attitude.

Recognize what is happening and do whatever you can to counter it. Now that I know that part of my issue is others bringing me down I can tell my negative feelings to suck it! When I say to myself that writing is a waste of time because I’ll fail, I can remind myself those are not MY words. That aspect of myself is small and tied down. I’ll always have doubts, but they will not cripple me the way they did in the past.

Share your story. I’m well past some of the bad feelings I’ve picked up from others, but they are Not. So I can tell them what I went through and how I overcame these things. It may or may not help them, but at least the effort is there on my part.

If all else fails (in my case), use ear buds. Doesn’t make sense, right? Empathy is about feeling what others are feeling. However, loud music and putting my head down to write can distract me from what is being said and felt. Something is better than nothing when the misery in the air is loud.

What a rant! I’m not as angry as this sounds. I’m simply drained and tired of it all.

As much as I’ve been affected by some others in my life, what I choose to do is my responsibility. Like I said before, not every writing difficulty is 100% Sarah’s fault. But it’s important to acknowledge the effect she’s had on me. I advise you to do the same with the people in your life who did the same to you. If you don’t realize what’s happening, you can’t take steps.

Don’t feel guilty for not wanting to be brought down. Know it’s not your responsibility to fix someone, whether they want to be fixed or not. All you can control is you. I’m choosing to do something about the situation. I have enough roadblocks in my life as it is. I don’t need this one.

File it under self-care and convince yourself that taking care of you is the most important thing.

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Photo by Vladimir Fedotov on Unsplash

Nanowrimo 2018 Update (Late)

Well, I didn’t win Nanowrimo. I didn’t expect to get 50,000 words written in thirty days. What I wanted was to get back into a good almost daily writing habit. In this, I did win!

I don’t write on my husband’s midweek day off or on Saturdays (most of the time), but I always intended to the rest of the week. By participating in Nano, I’m back to doing just that. Even if it’s only 300 – 500 words, I’m writing regularly again.

Sometimes it sucks to sit and write, due to pain issues, but I do it anyway. Yes, I’ve had bad days where I accomplished a whole lot of nothing. But most days I work through the pain.

One thing that helps is some days I work on the class I’m taking, and other days it’s straight writing. Today was a little of both. I wrote about 300 words and finished an entire lesson (those usually take a few days). Maybe I would have written more if I hadn’t done the coursework, but both are important to me, so I’m satisfied with what I chose.

Tomorrow a new lesson will be available, so I’ll probably work mostly on it with a little writing sprinkled in. I also have to do grocery shopping, and it’s just as likely I’ll do less than I plan.

Friday there is the potential for terrible weather and horrid driving conditions. As the people in my town lose their minds and driving abilities with even the tiniest bit of precipitation on the ground, I’ll probably stay in and write all day. After the winter Library sale, that is. There is a chance of cancellation due to the weather, so I’ll be closely watching the news. If they do cancel, I’ll have no excuse not to write though.

I’m hoping to find good copies of urban fantasy series. It’s for research! If my research is fun, that’s not a problem, right?

This week, I’ll probably write on Saturday too. Something about cold weather brings out my muse. I hope it stays true to form. I am still trying to plot the story I’m working on. The middle is giving me trouble.

I wrote the beginning and some of the end during Nanowrimo, but new ideas changed my original loose plotting. Now I need to figure out how to get from point A to point B with many characters, using no straight lines.

I don’t do outlines unless you count using index cards and pinning them on a board an outline. I’m sure if I did do a ‘real’ outline I’d know exactly where I was going and writing the story would be a breeze. Except there would be no magic, no fun — no room for change or growth in the story.

Serious plotting works for some people but not me. I like to let my muse be as free as possible while giving it at least a direction to start with.

I’ll try to post an update on my efforts soon.

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Sidenote: I use Grammarly, which I love, and it told me I ended two sentences with prepositions. 1. Sorry to anyone this annoys, but it’s the way I speak. This is just a blog post. If it were a story, I wouldn’t have ignored the suggestions to fix it. 2. I love this program because there are things I don’t notice myself doing while I’m trying to get the words out. So it’s good there is something to help me notice my flaws, such as the preposition thing, and my overuse of compound sentences, or certain words. In fact, it pointed out I used the word notice too much in this post as I typed this paragraph!

Also, I picked the image above because I hope the story I’m writing will feel this way when read.