Staying Sane, And Finding Hope, In The Time Of The Plague

Yesterday I wrote this …

Yes, it is a plague, only we don’t call it that anymore do we? Far too many dire associations.

But aren’t times dire?

As more and more of the world, the global connectivity, shuts down, more countries shut their doors, and any ‘official’ number of cases need to be multiplied by a factor of ten to come anywhere near a realistic number, the word ‘dire’ comes more and more to mind.

… and that’s as far as I got.

I was planning on deconstructing the concept, and bring out the ‘hope’ in the title of this post, but one minute I was sitting at my computer writing, and the next I was sitting in the glorious sunshine in our backyard (sunshine at last!) sobbing my heart out.

I broke, no lasting damage done, but I broke.

And it’s not that I haven’t been looking after myself both physically and emotionally, but it wasn’t enough without something to empty my full-to-the-brim-with-emotions, heart.

Sometimes you have to sit in the sunshine and cry, big diaphragm-ache-inducing tears.

At some point it will happen to you too, if it hasn’t already, and that’s a good thing. We can’t go around feeling like an exposed and raw nerve forever.

Chuck Wendig wrote in his latest post, ‘…We’re all in mourning from the death of normalcy…’ In his wonderful Chuck Wendig way, he spells it out so clearly, that he’s feeling, ‘… definitely, absolutely, unfuckwithably not okay…’  Go read the whole piece, it’s worth it.

After yesterday my chest doesn’t feel as though it’s going to crack under the strain. I’ve been weeping on and off since then, at the oddest things, so that I smile as I weep. (I’ll be OK, just not quite yet)

Point in case, cats and dominos …

ARRRGGGHHHH!!!!!

My computer is too old and too slow to open up Shotcut – my video editing software of choice. (after exhaustive researchings across the eleventy-gazillion dimensions of the interwebz) This I discovered after installing and uninstalling the software, successfully I might add, eleventy-gazillion times in a futile effort to get the damn thing to open.

Apparently my computer doesn’t ‘do’ 64 bits.(I have no idea what 64 bits is except that its double the humble 34 bits that are currently residing somewhere inside its hard-drive)

Mrs Widds computer, which is eleventy-gazillion generations younger than mine, was successful in both installing and opening the software!

“Eureka!” I hear you cheer … “No,” I riposte.

Mrs Widds computer, heretofore refuseth-ed to commune with my iPhone, (generation 5s – I know, I know, there’s a theme going on here) upon which I have extensively trained myself to take videos with. (Not having an actual dedicated video camera to do the deed with, I foolishly believed that because my phone successfully uploaded videos to my computer, it would be able to do unto Mrs Widds computer the same thing too)

I herewith tender my resignation to the Wednesday the 26th’s Center of Operations for the night!!!

So there …

Pouty McPout-face

Pouty McPout-face

… and I’m going to sleep until it’s tomorrow, and start all over again.

(I’m nowhere as cute as this little baby fox … which if memory serves me right, is one of Chuck Wendig’s family of foxes from last year, who raised their kits near his house, and he took many, many, way-too-cyoot photos of the younglings)

Rewrites, and Chapters, and Wild, Wild, Characters. They’ll Drive you Crazy, They’ll Drive You Insane

First up, here’s a motivational montage from Mr. Chuck Wendig. There may or may not … hah! Who am I kidding? … there will be multiple swear words, multiple times 🙂

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And now, what I’ve been up to this last little while? … Arting Harder  Futhermuckers. 🙂 (to paraphrase Mr. Wendig)

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In 1982, Raymond Feist  released ‘The Magician’. His publisher told him it was too long, and to remove 50,000 words.

“… And cut I did. Mostly line by line…” – from the foreword of The Magician, revised edition.

Ten years later he put ‘em all back in.

“… to reconstruct and change, to add and cut as I see fit, to bring forth what is known in the publishing world as the “Author’s Preferred Edition’ …” (my guess is he’d garnered enough clout that his publisher couldn’t object)

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I didn’t have to wait that long.

The original publisher of Mortal Instinct was useless, worse than useless, in ways that, if you searched the name you’d get a good idea of what I’m talking about. I’m not going to reference any of the crap here … mostly because it’s water under the bridge and we’ve all moved on.

I was waiting out my contract (rather than paying to get out of the contract early) which was slated to end next month, when, in October (2015) another company bought them out, and all the contracts along with it. I talked about my process to renew or not renew with the new publisher HERE.

Well, the negotiations went swimmingly and I signed on the dotted line, again. Only one book, for a specific time period.

And, here I am working on my Author Preferred Edition. Bigger, brighter, better written, certainly better edited … Oiiii! The stories I could tell!  … Bugger, I said I wouldn’t.

** claps hands firmly over mouth and mumbles, “Mustnotspeak, mustnotspeak, mustnotsp …**

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It’s one thing to spot opportunities when they are placed in our path and take them up. It’s another to have a second whack at getting them right.

I’m hoping to be done by the end of the month. All digits crossed. Then it goes to the publisher. We’ll see what they do with it!

So, I’ll be back … when I’m done. (which is what the Terminator should have said!)

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The title of this post was inspired by that esteemed musical ensemble, The Muppets.