Daily Archives: November 3, 2013


Oh, how I wish I was as excited about writing my NaNoWriMo novel as I am about every new blog post I write.

I have my characters.  I have my plot.  I have my story arc (I think).  So what’s the problem?

The problem is that I just don’t want to write this damn book.  OK, so don’t write it, you say.  Write a different book.  Don’t write this novel that takes five of the people you’ve known in your life who are all now dead, shake them up with real situations from your own life, and pour it into a dramatic tragedy that just never quits rolling.

Yes, it’s going to be a great book.  From moment one, dramatic scene after dramatic scene.  Emotion.  Action.  Mystery.  Tragedy.  Triumph over evil.

So what’s the problem?

Me.  I’m the problem.  The content of this book comes right out of my guts.  I’ve tried to write it before, and got pretty far along before I had to quit because my hands were shaking too hard to type.

I’m thinking I might use a dictation program this time.   I know that my “story voice” is very different when spoken than when written, but I’ve never tried it out on a long piece of fiction, so this might give me an opportunity.  And maybe it will give me that one degree of separation from the subject matter that will allow me to tell the story without freaking out in the middle of it.

Last year’s NaNoWriMo, I wrote something completely different, after trying to write this story the first two times.  Yes, I made it to 50,000 words, but that only got me my plot, character development, and story arc.  It’s going to take 80,000 words to tell this story right, I think.

I’d love to write it as a serial here, but I think that might be a problem for prospective publishers.

Ah well.  I guess I’d better start if I want to cross the finish line for the 4th year in a row.  Wish me luck.

Nothing Today

I’ve not picked up my knitting since last week. I’ve just not had any energy for it. I’ve been hunkered down around my computers, doing my best to keep myself occupied so I don’t notice the nausea as much. But I’m so sore and exhausted that all of what I am doing is computer-bound, and has even come with a repetitive stress injury (I twisted one of my shoulders; it’s very angry at me).

My sleep is starting to finally settle back into something decent. Even knowing that it takes about eight weeks for a body to adjust to a new schedule, it’s been rough going. But the last two or three nights, I’ve managed to get to sleep fairly easily, so hopefully… hopefully that’s sorted for now. I expect it will get bad again as I continue to expand outward, but that’s for later.

Still, I expect this month to crawl by with agonizing slowness. I don’t know how much longer the nausea is going to cling on, and every day that I’m dealing with it is a very slow day indeed. It certainly reminds me that I am devout in my decision to see this be my last pregnancy. Even if it’s as cheerfully normal and textbook as the last one, I certainly didn’t enjoy the state of being pregnant. Truly in this — to each their own.

Anyhoos, back to trying not drool on my desk.


The post Nothing Today appeared first on The Scarlet B.

Well, That Was Fun…Wasn’t It?

Look, I love my psychiatrist.  I think he’s a genius.  He thinks he’s a magician, so he’s all right by me.  In my opinion, you have to be crazy to be a psychiatrist in the first place–a good one, that is.

We’ve been riding this boat called my brain in more or less rough waters for, oh, twelve years now, with a few breaks for me to galavant across the country or the world.  So he knows my inner clockwork pretty well, and I know his pretty well, and most of the time it works out.

See, I have always lived an inner life, and never much paid attention to my environment.  I chalk that up to my considerable Aspergerian tendencies, and unless someone comes to visit and I am painfully reminded that I haven’t cleaned in years (you think I’m kidding?), I don’t even notice it.

My shrink thinks my essential disorganization is due to inattention.  He thinks that stimulants will fix it.  He’s had me try dexadrine in almost every form there is.  In fact, he just mailed me an Rx for Dexadrine Spansules, which is what you give kids mixed in apple sauce.

So I have this whole amphetamine pharmacy that I can’t quite bring myself to take to the “medication recycling day” at the drug store.  Hmph.  I know what THEY do with it anyway.  They get ripped, is what.

So last time he gave me the long-acting dexadrine I thought it worked pretty well, but never remembered to take it after that.  You must know that I am the mother who had to give the school nurse my son’s bottle of Ritalin because I could never remember to give it to him and the phone would ring reliably at 10 am:  ”Doctor, did you forget to give your son his Ritalin again?”  Because without it, he was just like a top bouncing off of everything in the room and crying at the same time.  Five milligrams of Ritalin, and the sun came out all smiles.  So I had his doctor write the prescription for the school nurse to give, and life was good.

Ooooh-kaaaay, back to my story.  Yeah.  So I saw my magician on Thursday, and he encouraged me to try the stuff again, and he also prescribed a light box, 10,000 lux, for my persistent depression.  All good so far.

Yeah.  So yesterday I took a long-acting dexadrine 10 mg in the morning, which is what he said to do.  Only, you gotta understand, my mornings start at around 11 am because my night-time meds take so long to wear off.  So I took it as soon as the coffee kicked in, which might have been noon by that time.

About four o’clock I was sailing.  I was literally cookin’ along, because I prepare a big family dinner every Friday night and so I was choppin’ and marinatin’ and having a general good ol’ time.

Eight o’clock and I was still buzzed.  I started feeling a little cranky so I took an Ativan.  No dice, did nothing.  Ten o’clock, I took my usual night-time sledgehammer dose of Ativan, Clonipine, Zolpidem and Seraquel.  That usually results in unconsciousness within half an hour.

Nope, not last night.  Instead, I went into a state of half-wake, half-dreaming.  I think that’s what vampires must do.  It’s certainly not anything I would call sleeping.  I lay on my pillow, eyes lightly closed, alternately shivering and drawing the blankets up to my chin, and breaking out in sweats and throwing the covers off.  Haven’t had anything like that since I laid off menopause.

Finally at seven (seven!) I turned over and said to the dog, “This ain’t goin’ nowhere.  I’m gettin’ up.”  She opened one eye and shut it again.  She’s a late sleeper too.

Noga, my Lhasa Apso PSD, getting her beauty sleep

Noga, my Lhasa Apso PSD, getting her beauty sleep

I made coffee, drank it, and went to work deleting emails.  If you knew how many thousands of unread emails I have in my many email accounts, I’m sure you’d think less of me.  But anyway, that’s what I did.

Long about 11 o’clock, the sun came up over the mountain like it usually does.  The dog stretched and yawned and demanded her morning petting session (kisses and hugs too) before she went outside to take care of business.

After she came in, I fed her, and then we both went back to bed and slept till it got dark.  Now it’s 11 pm, and I’m waiting for the nighttime meds to kick in.  I might try that stimulant shit again, at seven in the morning like you’re supposed to.  Then again, I might not.

One Of My Favorite Driving Songs……

if I had a car. I could really use some running away time right now….. I am slipping off the …

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