For those who missed it, here is the short story: My surgeon implanted me with a new left hip. Arthritis has plagued both my hips for more than a year. It’s a genetic thing. Other members of my family have also had total hip replacements. I will have the right hip replaced someday, as well, but that’s a Future Me problem. Please! Screw Future Me. Present Me is still dealing with the recovery process.
However!
I am getting better. Yesterday I entered our shower for the first time without using a transfer bench. I’ve walked around two stores in the last few days. Those adventures were brief, but I am building my stamina. The improvements feel incremental, but I do notice positive changes almost every day, and I am fanatical about performing all my rehab exercises. (Shout out to Melissa at Old North Wellness for her excellent skills as a physiotherapist!)
So:
I last pounded the keys on my current work in progress on March 30. (It’s a tale of revenge with lots of surprises, strategies for vengeance, and multiple endings.) My ordeal of reengineering my anatomy occurred on March 31. Today is April 30. Tomorrow, I will start writing again. I have been down, depressed, and anxious post-surgery, but I’m still in the game. Please stand by.
Dawn is coming.
~ In the meantime, geez, see all those books to the right? I have a bunch of great stories in my catalogue you will love. Award-winning stuff! Socks and shoes flying off and whatnot! Some may make you ugly cry, but there’s (almost) always a sprig of hope in each narrative bouquet. Click a link, read a book, be transported and transformed.
This week, I’m outside my comfort zone, away from the blanket fort, and working on an epic fantasy. Strictly speaking, this is a new genre to me. However, there are so many commonalities with the apocalyptic and dystopian genres that it’s definitely adjacent. The writing is coming easily. I have always enjoyed creating worlds, especially those with philosophical or theological complexity. Amid the action and chaos, there is the reaction to action and chaos. That’s where the tears and laughter can really flow.
As I sit in this cozy cottage (our first vacation in many years), I’m grateful my wife insisted we get away. For a while, someone else can worry about the broken clothes dryer and that funny noise the air conditioner makes. This week is just for us, and of course, filling up the blank page with suspenseful stories full of swords and mayhem.
Each day, I write little daily updates about the work and my reading and writing life in my fan group. If you’d like to join my inner circle of people who dig what I do, join my Facebook group here:
Makes it sound like I’m storming Zuckerberg’s mansion with a bunch of ninja commandos, doesn’t it? It’s 5% less awesome than that. For one night only, I’m taking over a FB group dedicated to science fiction and fantasy. I’ll be at Destiny’s Lighters from 5:30 pm to 10 PM EST tonight, Saturday, July 16.
Here’s the group:
https://www.facebook.com/groups/lytonians/
Want to come see what I think is wrong with a bunch of apocalyptic fiction? Or what’s right? I’ll even tell you who cares. To get in, all you need is an invite and I give those out freely.
The writing life has its ups and downs. As I was closing up shop yesterday, my editor, Gari Strawn of strawnediting.com, noted, “It’s been a week of a day.”
Amen, sister! Yesterday felt like Thwart Day. Whatever could go wrong, did.
But the hijinx didn’t end there. Besides getting a new word processing platform together for the editorial team’s collaboration, my internet connectivity became sketchy. (See that, right there? That’s what you call foreshadowing, partner.)
Working furiously to meet a deadline, other projects I thought I was going to get to faster had to be pushed further back. Not happy about that, but to pay the bills, the writing life often has to be about short-term and long-term.
My son’s PC crapped out on him so I consulted (AKA did the heavy looking on as he poked through the machine’s innards). I nodded sagely as he diagnosed the need for a new power supply.
Which got me thinking, when was the last time I did a full manual backup of my computers?
Backup
I once belonged to a writing group where some odd questions were often posed. Most memorable: “Who here writes with a quill pen?” Settle down, d’Artagnan. Write or type, but don’t be so precious and extra.
My son’s computer issues spurred me to be more proactive about the health of my desktop and laptop. Both are climbing into the age where they are antiques. It was past time to protect them better. I’d used Sophos before. This time, I installed AVG tuneup on both machines and eliminated many gigabytes of duplicate and useless files. Then I did a full backup, updates and virus scan. The process took some time, but it was inexpensive. It felt good to clean up my babies. My living does depend on their health, after all.
Finding balance
The writing life isn’t just about tickling brains, sly jokes, and meteoric wordplay. Because my brain navigates a meatwagon through the world, I’m also trying to find balance for my health. Despite some all-nighters recently (because of looming deadlines and tech glitches I couldn’t plan for) I try to stop work by 9 pm. After that, my brain is too overstimulated and I’ll be up for the night. Though the day had been an example of Murphy’s Law, I made time to go on a long walk with She Who Must Be Obeyed. Sometimes that’s the only time we have for long talks, as well.
I’ve gone back to vegan eating. There’s a long theory about the relationship between ingestion, temperature, and sleep, but the short answer is, for me, more vegan = less insomnia. Since I’ve gone vegan, my energy is up and I’m not schlumping around like a wounded animal quite as much.
I even made time to give myself a haircut last night. I shave it tight on the sides. Any tighter and I’d look like I have mange. It’s kind of a Peaky Blinders vibe.
Despite yesterday’s frustrations, it turned out better by the end. I’m more calm than I might otherwise be. Thwart Day was tough, but I was determined to make today better.
Then the internet totally crapped out on us this morning.
Thor…damn…it.
And so … we begin again. When I mention my frustrations to a friend, he always comes back with how much harder he has it. I’m not sure whether he’s bragging or complaining, but he’s not wrong. There are vicissitudes, but the writing life is still pretty sweet compared to all my other options.
Holly Pop and I wrote three books together: Haunting Lessons, Death Lessons, and FierceLessons. I penned a fourth book in the series, Dream’s Dark Flight. Darkness Visible will complete the series. I’m looking forward to seeing how Tamara Smythe saves the world from monsters from another dimension.
That WIP is on the docket. First up will be This Plague of Days: Contagion. It’s a prequel to the TPOD trilogy that is set entirely in Ireland. I’m also working on a three-book paranormal series with author and podcast king Armand Rosamilia.
Crime thriller recommendation
Armand reached out this week to say how much he’s enjoying “Jesus 4” AKA Resurrection, particularly since there’s an appearance by his protagonist from his hit crime series, Dirty Deeds. It just occurred to me that Armand’s other huge series is Dying Days. Dirty Deeds and Dying Days. Hm. Armand enjoys double Ds in his titles. That sounds on-brand.
If you dig crime novels, check out Dirty Deeds. The premise for his hitman is fresh and interesting. Think Dexter…with more kids and a whole lot of baseball cards.
The coffee shop (AKA the coffice) is no longer an option, of course. Freedom awaits, but relief shall not come until at least two full weeks after that longed-for goal: Vaccination Day!
I’m writing fiction and working on audiobooks in the blanket bunker. If you can manage it, I highly recommend a similar retreat. Failing that, pull blankets over your head and breathe through a hose. Crawl under the bed to cry. Hide under a friendly dog and whisper your deepest sins into his big floppy ears.
Then? Wait.
Then wait some more.
Patience.
Don’t binge on bad news all the time. Stay sane. Perform a kindness. Poke your head out a window and curse the distant, uncaring stars. Have a cookie. Have another cookie. Exercise by pounding a pillow and cursing. Works for me.
Today’s message is:
You will feel fear. You will feel grief. As the pandemic rages on, anger may grip you. I hope we live to feel gratitude for being spared.
She Who Must Be Obeyed (AKA my wife) mentioned that the new move in appropriate terminology is to encourage physical distancing, not social distancing.
With COVID-19 rampaging across Earth, isolating is necessary. However, you need not feel alone. All in this together even if we’re apart, right? Some experts suggest reaching out to three people a day (electronically). Give a call to someone you haven’t spoken to in a while. Check in, especially with the elderly, vulnerable neighbors or family members who are stuck, alone or at risk. Alone doesn’t have to be lonely. Making and maintaining social connections has even been shown to be good for our health. Stress and strife is something we need to tamp down as much as we can.
Don’t know what to say to people going through hard times? Often, all you need do is listen so they feel heard and seen. Other times, you may be able to help people at risk connect to services that can assist them.
Speaking of Reaching Out
Did you know that avid readers of my work have a private Facebook group where I hold forth on the doings of the day? It’s often jokes and occasionally it’s serious. I add excerpts from my work in progress, too.
Example? Here’s a snippet from the This Plague of Days prequel I’m working on now:
Armed only with the cane, Moira rushed toward the screams. She was still weak, but now that she’d survived the Sutr flu, she was determined to fight whatever came next. She did not spare a moment to tell Kevin Laughlin that she would return to his side. The dying have no time for lies.
For another taste from the group, here’s today’s post (a review of sorts):
Hey, Monday, you great looming beast full of threats, coffin nails, and bat wings. And hello, friends.
When we ran out of our addictive Tiger King supply, we watched Wild Wild Country on Netflix. Again, I am amazed at the sheer amount of footage narcissists require. If you know someone who records everything, there’s a good chance they killed somebody or they’re about to do something super shady that should land them in a prison cell.
Wild Wild Country has been out for a while. I’d given it a miss, but it is so watchable after you slog through the first episode. It’s about a cult that started out with high hopes. Then god complexes, bigotry, and government corruption get in the way. A utopian vision in rural Oregon slides from peace and love to AK-47s. It’s disappointing and teaches us a lesson we should have learned a long time ago: Don’t trust the feds.
There is so much fascinating nuance in these tales of downward spirals. I don’t watch a lot of true crime. I imagine that if you binge too much of it, it’s difficult to see the good in humanity. I know I often sound like a cynic, but they say every cynic is a disappointed idealist.
If you dig what I do, this is your invitation to join our happy little group of readers.
