Progress on Stone’s Embrace

Okay, think about it. Winter’s over. You’ve prepared your planting beds in March—April’s time to plant those seeds and nurture their growth.

Let me make that analogy personal. I’ve planned new projects, plotted out the chapters, and now it’s time to write the proposals I will send out by month’s end. It’s a fertile time, both physically and mentally. Make the most of it!

There is the little problem of a book that was due like yesterday! I have some wiggle room—until next Monday, but I really wanted to get it in on time. I feel like I’m eating into one of my “fertile” weeks finishing it off. Think positive thoughts for me. I also have to add pages to another project for an editor who wanted a little bit more to make a decision. Wish I could jump on it, but again, that fertile time, new seeds and all, isn’t happening until I finish that too. Maybe April’s gonna be a bust for me.

When someone close to you suffers an illness, something serious, it tends to make you stop to smell those darn roses. You cherish those conversations, those moments when you connect. You want to savor them, remember them.

I moved to Arkansas a year and half ago to be near my parents and help them as they grew older. I knew intellectually why I was here. This past week has made everything terribly real. Last week, I accompanied my father to the hospital where they ran tests to determine the health of his heart. The news wasn’t good. Today, he’s heading to surgery for multiple bypasses. That’s bad enough, but given his age and his health, we’re all worried.

Especially him. Dad’s the alpha guy. Quiet, strong. Always there doing the things the strong silent guys do to keep family safe and content. He’s scared. That fact completely unsettles me.

I watch him and my mother together and realize their’s was the happy-ever-after every romance reader dreams of. They fuss at each other with twinkles in their eyes. They do little things all the time for each other that are sweet and thoughtful. They grew up together, made a family, and are the hub for all their children’s and grandchildren’s lives. When the first of them passes on, the other will be lost.

So today, say a prayer for my dad. Call your mom or dad and say hello. I’ll be sitting in a waiting room with my mom, sister, and daughter, waiting and hoping we can all put off the inevitable one more time. Sorry I didn’t come with my usual cheery face, but today I’m not feeling so invincible or secure.

Okay, now that I have your attention, follow this link to enter today’s contest: Access Romance

I have great excuses. Run down on Thursday. A day spent at the hospital waiting on tests for a loved one on Friday. And now the monthly curse. TMI? Well, tough. This is my life and my blog. I’ll tell it like it is. I was probably so hideously grumpy on Saturday because it was making its arrival known.

Progress on Stone’s Embrace

So I made good progress on this one last week. Can I do it again? Guess it depends on what happens with Dad’s appointments. I do have a little wiggle room for the turn-in date, but I want to finish by the end of the month.

Progress on untitled short contemporary novella

I didn’t mean to start another project when I have so many in the works, but I opened a new document one day after I finished up my pages on STONE and started writing this thing. So far it’s a string of sex scenes in need of a theme and a plot. I’ve sent it to my most trusted friends for help dreaming up a story to go along with the sex. Really have to have a story, darn it.

This week will be a challenge just keeping focused with all the craziness happening around me. Last night I dreamed I was trapped in a house on stilts, deep in a bayou. A terrible storm rattled the roof and water seeped under the front door while I sat on the couch and prayed for it to end. It wasn’t until I saw a scaly back swimming through the murky water that I realized alligators and snakes had come through a window. I climbed higher and higher, arriving at last in the attic. The pitch dark seemed to amplify the sounds of the rain, the slithering snakes, the hissing roar of the gators…

Okay, so the dream must be a metaphor for my life, but the demented writer in me hopes I have more nightmares.

Have to be quick because I’m heading back to Little Rock today.

I’m still sore, but I imagine after a really hot shower I won’t feel like a rickety old woman. The trick is to not sit still too long. My shoulders feel like I’ve been taking punches.

And I’m bummed. We didn’t get the news we’d hoped for yesterday. Surgery is in the offing. And soon. Maybe as soon as next week. One foot in front of the other, and we will make it.

Today, I meet with the wonderful ladies from the Diamond State Romance Authors. If I remember, I’ll take pictures. Should come back in a much better frame of mind. Later, chicas!

I awoke today feeling every one of my bumps and bruises—PLUS stiffness in my joints. Mom has some great pain pills in her medicine cabinet, so my world’s delightful at the moment.

Won’t be writing much today, if at all. I’m driving with mom and dad to Little Rock where he’s going to have his tubes checked out—the ones running into his heart. Poor thing hasn’t been feeling himself for months but he’s not happy that he might be facing bypass surgery (worst case) or stints (stents?). So, I’ll be hanging at the hospital with a notebook in hand. Sis is driving down from North Arkansas to be with us.

I made good progress this week despite yesterday’s little drama. I’m on chapter four of STONE’S EMBRACE and chapter two of a sexy little side project I decided to write to keep me sane while I work on the paranormal. Both are very raw, but the bones are there. I should have them complete by the end of the month.

Have a nice day and don’t stand behind any moving vehicles!

I live in Arkansas and my brains were scrambled about an hour ago, so I’m entitled to an ungrammatical moment!

It was a dark and stormy night…

No, no…it was a bright, sunny morning and birds were chirping…

Anyway, my mother’s an artist and works in many media (mediums?), and she’s giving this demonstration for her art guild tonight on egg art—you know, the Faberge kind. Painted, jeweled eggs. She decided to pull her minivan around the back of the house and load up everything she needed from the studio and I decided to meet her there to help carry the many baskets.

She backed up to the door and stopped. I moved forward with a basket in my hands, reached for the latch on the back of the vehicle to open it, when the car lurched backward.

She hadn’t seen me standing there. I didn’t have time to move away. My right shoulder and hand were bumped by the car, and I was tossed like a ragdoll through the air to land on the concrete porch.

It happened really fast, and all the while I thought, “Gee, so this is what it feels like to fly.” Wierd, I know. I started to sit up, then saw my shoes under her car. I didn’t know I’d “flown” quite so far or that she’d hit me hard enough to lift me out of them.

She was more upset than I was. I started to get up, but she was hovering, flapping, wringing her hands. I couldn’t help it, I started to giggle. I do that when I’m stressed. Like a hyena–or at least like Betty Rubble. Ask my sister.

So, now I’m cataloguing injuries, just to have a record, because you know this has to go into a story somewhere down the line:

* Right elbow scraped raw
* Ditto right knee
* Right hip aches, but no visible bruising. (Lots of padding there so bruise is probably closer to bone)
* Right shoulder bruised and throbbing
* Right palm tingly

But all in all, not that dramatic, right? I’m sure my body will start to ache in interesting places as the day goes on, but I feel very lucky. I’m gonna be fine in a few days and have something to add to my life experiences to write about. 😆

I do feel sorry for mom, though. She took a valium and headed to bed.