Punishing Ways

Pardon the dirt under my nails. I’m still clawing my way out of the hole my moments of actual fun cast me into this weekend.

You know, it wouldn’t be so bad if it was just a little hole. Nope, I have to end up in an underground system of caves. Stalactites, stalagmites, bat dung, it’s all here, baby.

So, please hold your nose and bear with your blogger for a day or two more.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

Passersby

Blame ghosts.

The entire fault for my unplanned absence from the blogging world yesterday shall be laid upon hauntings of an antebellum mansion.

Friday night, I gathered my brave bits and went on a 90 minute ghost tour of the Hermitage in Nashville! It was incredible fun… alas, the price for such fun is always nasty with my mind and body. Apologies.

Maybe someday I’ll learn the absurdities of my existence and warn passersby accordingly.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe 

Lateness Becomes Me

A tawdry list of excuses I could throw at your feet. Alas, they'd all be terribly boring and lend nothing to the writing milieu.

I could employ my rather fearful imagination and deliver to you a tale of wondrous woe.

Or I could simply throw myself down on the pointy end of the truth and admit I simply forgot to blog today.

Go ahead and gasp, my friends. Feel slighted. Wallow in forlorn. I do not blame you.

I will wear my hair shirt well tonight and will learn from the incessant itch. And tomorrow I will return stronger, if a bit more rashy.

Until tomorrow...

Chloe

Perchance to Punish

*the lump of blankets on the couch moves, grumbles incoherently and yawns*

*a rat nest of mussed hair pops out of an afghan fold, your blogger’s eyes eventually follows*

*a scowl is born*

Nightmares are crap.

Unmitigated clusterf**ks of filth.

*your blogger retreats back under the covers*

*muffled, unclear but insistent, the voice continues to grouch…*

I’m thinking the five hour long, marathon bad, bad, BAD dream I had last night is punishment for yesterday’s work…  Well, I suppose “work” is a bit of an overstatement.  I’ll let you judge for yourselves.

I settled down in front of my computer with the intent to put a hurting on Book Three. Knocking down the 500 words I didn’t knock down the day before was at the tip top of my agenda. It was. Really.

*a guilty clearing of your blogger’s throat rumbles from deep beneath the blankets*

*the sheepish confession follows…*

I researched instead.

The research was on Book Three, however, so at least I aimed my folly in the correct direction.

Yep, punishment.

My mind knew I should have been cranking out actual words rather than needlessly investigating atmosphere/history/scenery.

Someday I’ll learn my lesson.

Maybe.

*snickers into the afghan*

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

An Author's Guilt

Is such harsh punishment really necessary?

There’s a touch of guilt tugging at my shadow today. Just a small nag-nag-nag which will be easily ignored once it has been acknowledged.

It is a silly little thing. So don’t expect a grandiose confession.

There will no mention of Jimmy Hoffa, a certain grassy knoll in Dallas or Amelia Earhart. It is only a tiny transgression a writer makes from time to time. (Anyone who just thought the word “plagiarism,” shame on you! *clucks disapprovingly*)

I am simply talking about a misappropriation of writing time.

Despite how that sounds, I doubt the U.S. Congress needs to hold a hearing on it. No subpoenas will be issued. No pundits need clear their calendars.

As with most acknowledgements of guilt, an explanation is in order.

Yesterday evening, I tacked on the remaining 250 words on my 750 word goal amazingly quickly. The sentences just flowed and Whoosh! I was done. So, I had a number of hours left empty before bedtime to fill.

A responsible writer working on a deadline (yes, July 1 is still a bit far away but time has a habit of flying when an author least expects it) should have spent those few precious hours working ahead on Book Two of “The Lion and the Steed” series.  Admittedly I had just given 750 words to that very cause, but a novel is a needy bloke and is always willing to take a handout.

Unfortunately, I had no sense of charity left for Book Two last night. So being the wanton woman I am, I gave all my time and attention to… you guessed it, “The Six Brothers.”

*hangs head in desperate shame*

My Revolutionary War-era project that I’m hoping beyond all hope to lead me into a more mainstream (and higher paying) market once again lured me into its historic fiction folds.

*slaps herself hard on the hand*

Bad, bad writer.

Truly awful.

I will try my best to be more loyal today.

I will strive to think “Deadline!” alone.

*sighs heartily*

Sometimes being a good, responsible writer sucks.

But…

*smiles mischievously*

Some other times, the good, responsible writer needs to go on an unplanned holiday with nary a look in the rearview mirror.

So, I’m claiming vacation time for last night and that little nagging guilt can go dunk its head in a vat of something really foul.

*snickers guiltlessly*

Until tomorrow…

Chloe