Outsides

My insides want to crawl out and puke all over my outsides…

Must be deadline day.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe 

The Last Blue

The last day of writing on “Blue” is here!

Two scenes and a handful of fill-ins for dialogue and the novella will be done. Tomorrow will be dedicated wholly to proof reading, formatting and hitting that blessed “Send” button.

I am tired, people… but proud.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

At the Ready

400 words in 2 days… Even I, on my most pathetic day, can manage this. “Blue” will be long enough when it hits Dreamspinner Press’s door!

The champagne remains on ice, however. I’ve still got a ton of work to do to plug plot gaps, check DR Congo facts, and make the romance feel all fresh and stunning.

But I will allow myself a quick “Yippee!” at the word count. I feel much better now.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

The Long, Hard Minute

1.5k words in 3 days.

As “Blue’s” hard deadline rattles ever closer, a little puff of insight emerged from the tired mess which is my brain…

While most people have to concentrate on getting through each day, those with mental illness must concentrate on getting through each minute.

A small difference in word; a terrific difference in deed.

Instead of a week being defined as 7 long, hard days, to us a week is defined as 10,080 long, hard minutes.

No wonder I’m pooped.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

Don't Tread in Me

2.5k words in 4 days.

Flying in the face of the deadline for “Blue,” I devoted a good chunk of my time yesterday marking up a hard copy of the story.

Oranges, pinks and greens now color my manuscript with jaunty directives like “Move!”, “Add Beginning,” “Fill In,” and “Connection Needed.”

For some reason, this always motivates me. Don’t ask me why. The inner workings of my mind are scary places, and I try not to tread in them often.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

Pivot Point

3k words in 5 days.

As the hard deadline for “Blue” approaches faster than I’d like, I did the unthinkable yesterday and added a crucial and totally unnecessary scene to its plot. Worse yet, the scene is now the pivot point of the whole novella.

My rationale? While a ballerina can certainly pirouette on the balls of her feet, it is infinitely more ‘must-see’ for her to do so on the tip of her toes. “Blue” now pirouettes on one singular scene, not a messy bundle of them.

Bottom line: It’s never too late to tinker.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

Retaliation

4k words in 6 days.

Another 1k words stuffed into “Blue’s” coffers yesterday. Unfortunately the old fella still has his hand out for 4k more.

While I realize that a hard deadline usually demands hard work, my brain is retaliating by becoming squishy. Look at me the wrong way and little spurts of anxiety and Prozac squirt out all over the place.

I’m slowly becoming a bio-hazard. Lovely.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe 

Keeping Pace

5k words in 7 days.

A surprisingly effective day of writing yesterday netted 1k words towards the hard deadline for “Blue.”

I could have pushed myself to do more, but an un-panicked pace must be maintained if sanity is to be kept… the ridiculousness of this statement is matched only by its utter truth.

Bottom line: It’s maddening being crazy.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

Clawing

6k words in 8 days.

This is a hard deadline.

“Blue” must be done by May 31.

Hard deadlines rub my Anxiety Gremlin the wrong way. I’m expecting snapping and clawing to commence by noon. I am so looking forward to this.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

Hackneyed

Note to self: 166 words of writing is NOT enough to work to fend off a night of disturbingly absurd nightmares.

The mad, mad mind requires a substantially more vicious workout before it will collapse into a state of just hackneyed absurdity.

Note to self: Check eBay for new wiring ASAP.

Until tomorrow or Tuesday (travel day possible tomorrow)…

Chloe

Ragdoll Days

I expended every morsel of normal I own yesterday. Hence, I’m a mental ragdoll today.

This will, no doubt, get ugly.

Run, hide and bunker down. I dearly wish I could.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

Life Outside

A reasonably good amount of writing on “Blue” was accomplished yesterday, leaving me pleasantly stunned.

There will be no dumbstruck-ness today, I fear. Life outside of the pen and paper calls.

I don’t do so well ‘outside of pen and paper.’ Hopefully, this little sojourn will be relatively painless for all. Fingers crossed, everyone.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

Burr

Woke up in a briar patch of angry nerves. I’d really prefer to dig a hole and see the day out in the dark dirt.

Seeing that isn’t an option, I am here, obnoxious anxieties and all.

What work will get done is anybody’s guess.

After 26 years, man, am I tired of this.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe and her nerves

Limber Dreams

I’m the Weeble of the publishing world. Push me over and I’ll surely fall, but I will just as assuredly pop back up.

There are, of course, far worse things to be, but occasionally I’d like to experience legs and feet and toes and such. Just enough limber to duck instead of weeble.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

LOL Interrupted

Wedging the “absolutely must-be-done, no kidding, like NOW” writing into this week’s family activities will definitely be a challenge.

Pfft. No problem.

I’d laugh in the face of this daunting task, but I simply don’t have the time to spare the guffaw.  

Until tomorrow…

A harried but determined Chloe

Hacking Therapy

Apologies. I’ve been in my parents’ trees all day. Hacking and whacking off recalcitrant limbs, all my writerly frustration finally found a suitable target. Poor maple.

This week, I predict, will be full of such days with lawn tools. So, forgive any tardiness, please. Know your blogger is still somewhere near… with gardening shears and a maniacal gleam.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

The Pinch

While I will not meet my self-imposed deadline for “Blue” tonight, I refuse to beat myself up over this. A whole lot of good work was done on the story this last week, and the finish line is now within relatively easy reach.

*smiles appropriately*

I just hope these rose-colored glasses don’t start to pinch my nose.

Until Monday (travel day tomorrow)…

Chloe

Lackey

My work plate is entirely too full for someone getting paid cents on the month.

I’m feeling like the lackey of the outfit. Dimwitted and eager, that’s me.

Just saying.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

The Wise Wager

Brain recalibrated (check-ups with psychiatrists will do that to a girl)…

Iron levels boosted (a red meat binge the last 3 days clocked that back up to sustainable-to-life)…

9k words to write in 3 days (yes, old “Blue” again)…  

I am raring to go, people! (bets on how long the “raring” attitude last are now being taken… wager wisely and often).

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

The Teetering Deadline

Writing slowed down to a crawl yesterday. I finally kicked it back into gear around 9pm.

My self-imposed Saturday deadline for “Blue” still stands… but just barely.

It’s teetering, my friends. Grab your hard hat and a six pack if you’re sticking around. This could all get stupid real quick.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

Pass the Chisel

“Fickle is the mind that rests here”… I’m currently carving this into my headboard.

Out of nowhere, in the middle of the long, long night, my squirrely brain turned on me. Anxiety chomped down on the old psyche and wouldn’t let up for hours.

Why, you may I ask?

See the fickle warning above.

Now, where did I leave that stupid chisel?

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

Bring on the Fool

Is it entirely too early for optimism? Yes.

Will I abandon said-optimism? No.

“Blue” is going well. I want to get it done by Saturday night. I’m feeling good that could actually happen. History dictates that this is precisely when the blood thirsty alligators scramble out of the shadows and gnaw my optimistic carcass down to its bone.

While the tactician in me advises “extreme caution,” the fool yells “Bring it on, Mr. Crocodile!”

May the fool always win.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

The Old Sublime

I wrote yesterday.

I wrote well.

I had nearly forgotten how sublime that feels.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

Do No Harm

After getting all must-do’s done Friday morning, my mind hiccupped itself into a tizzy.

While I’m used to the daily twinges of crazy, yesterday’s full-blown spasmodic attack of mad was a wee-bit disheartening. The “let’s bruise ourselves black and blue” gremlins were particularly chatty in the head.

Strong arming myself not to strong arm myself was loony enough to actually work. I am proud to report that I retired last night with nary a bloom of bruise, cut or scrape upon me.

The level of stupid in my life amazes even me.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

Spot. Men. Plot.

Spot. Men. Plot.

This catchy little trifecta is how I’ve always created my romance novels. I’d pick a locale that tickled me, I’d craft 2 fully backstoried men to match, and only then would I weave a unique plot around both. While this has served me well in the past, I’ve had to break up the party with “Blue.”

Yesterday, for the first time, I reconstructed ENTIRELY a leading character to fit a plot… the Four Horsemen should be rumbling over the horizon just about now.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe 

Rigmarole

Pardon the bruises and the bloody lip. I’ve been wrestling with a bit of apathy lately and it’s getting messy.

While my enthusiasm for “Blue” (its storyline, its characters, its overall groove) is just fine, I’ve got nothing in the old steam pipe left for the whole publishing rigmarole. I am tired of working my ‘tale’ off for pennies on the week (my last royalty check: $1.14). So, apathy has me pinned down to the floor right now.

Oh, don’t fret. I’ll get the upper-hand eventually. My bloody lip and I always do.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

Stub

I’m a quarter of the way through writing “Blue” and am ready to pick up steam today.

My stubby little outline for the short story is, well, exactly that: stubby. Tamping down on my creative juices to keep the tale a manageable 15k words physically pained me. Unfortunately, my “I’m a martyr for my art” t-shirt is still in the dryer or I’d be properly styling my pain.

Pity.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

Stepping Stone

Yesterday was about hunkering down and surviving my mind.

And I did it.

I got nothing else done, but I did it.

Was Monday a waste? No. It was a necessary stepping stone to today.

Time to move on.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

Acclimate

After spending 10 days in polite, relatively sane company, I am back home and fighting with myself to acclimate.

I can’t seem to relax as I struggle to fit back into my own weirded-out skin.

While faking normalcy is always hard, facing the unmasked crazy in the mirror can be equally unsettling.

And on that note, I have a 1k words to write today. This should be pleasant.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe