That Moment...

TMW you wake up at two in the morning and you can't go back to sleep.

 

TMW you think you've almost beat a video game, but it's only just getting started...

 

That moment when you've finally managed to finish a chapter.

That moment when it's the wrong chapter.

Oops.

 

It might be ok...if you write from the middle outward.

 

TMW you get your first Goodreads rating on your new book and its super meh (2.5 out of 5 stars, from someone who gave my first book 5 stars).

Meh's better than bad or DNF (Did Not Finish), but it's not helping my deeply rooted fear that I might be a one-trick pony after all.

 

It's not officially for sale yet - my publisher just put it up on Netgalley, where reviewers can download ARCs (Advance Reader Copies) for free in exchange for reviwing on their blog/website/publication. They said a full review would be coming, so I get to look forward to that.

 

It should be up on Amazon UK on November 1st. Don't cry - apparently it's not that great anyway.

 

TMW you look up your name on amazon, and you are second to a Gay Romance
Character. Perhaps I have some things to consider, seeing as I only have one rev
on my book that is a 5 star. IDK what the world is telling me...

 

TMW you should be getting ready to take your SO out for their birthday dinner, but you really just want to crawl under the covers and sleep til Sunday....

 

TMW you stayed up till midnight waiting for one of your favorite artist's new album, and then you stayed up till one listening to it.

 

TMW you celebrate your 23rd wedding anniversary and are still crazy about the guy (and vice-versa).

 

TMW:
Oh my... It seems I've discovered an old novella I attempted years ago, a prequel to my main fantasy about how my MC got to where she is in the story. >_> Wondering if I need to write it or just put it aside as backstory...
I mean, I could just write it, throw in a few subplots to make it a fully-fledged novel. Come to think of it, my ‘main fantasy’ literally only happens because of the events of this novella soooo....

 

TMW you finally, after about 10 years of postponing it, book a consultation for that long, long overdue cover-up tattoo (the old one needs to GO). Yessss.

 

TMW you check your email, and an advertising email decides you need a bra
that will flatter your large breasts.
I think they have the wrong guy when it comes to selling bras to.

 

My man-boobs are too small anyways.

 

Sure, but I have never bought a bra online, even when I was married.
Last I checked crossdressing was not on my list of oddity.

 

THAT MOMENT WHEN: I realize that by giving Mishu her parents back, I basically have to re-write my story with them in mind because earlier it was written with the idea that they were long dead. I even dedicated a chapter to her talking to her mother and father’s ghosts!

Crapbaskets...

 

TMW you take a hard, honest look at your retirement savings situation.

 

TMW you realize that since hooking up the internet in your workspace/studio on this island of the nones (which is quite appropriate these days) you are actually talking to less & less people in your day to day life and doing less & less real writing in your alone time.

Note : I have been internet free for the past two years except at work where it is apparently a tool. The tool being the employees I reckon, hell, everybody gets their turn at being a tool for somebody, somewhere, somehow.

I think that I may now be seriously screwed when it comes to my obviously growing dependency on the WWW. And since I do not want to be left behind (being over 50 and all) I babble to you from here instead of doing some real writing. Add to this the fact that instead of interacting with actual living and knowledgeable people about fixing my old furnace, I now tend to watch youtube videos alone about it and remain speechless in front of a small and confined screen. Guys who understand in their guts about how to fix old furnaces have alot of good stories about housewives you know, and those do not always make it "on line" much like a lot of old timely knowledge about fixing Seeburg Jukeboxes with a tromat memory system. But who cares, this is the information age damn it, and those who can not command themselves will be commanded.

I am now going to turn off this router or modem or whatever these black boxes are and also pull out this goddam blue wire for good measure from this sleek looking windows 10 bullshit laptop or whatever it is they decided I should have installed and will go to my other desk which is in fact an old farm table from the 30's. On it sits a 20 year old IBM thinkpad connected to nothing except my memories and a power supply. This brick like laptop is something I have thrown across the room many times. It still works well for me, and that is where I like to write nowadays since I gave up my old Remington typewriter which was more difficult to pick up and throw around. Prior to that I would throw my fucking pens across the room, but they now sit idle, motionless and dumb in an old meat grinder clamped to my farm table where many meals and conversations took place decades ago.

Sorry about this post, just realizing that I may not want to become an obsolete relic just yet via the circumstance of being alive this long in rapidly changing times.

Peace out as the young people say.