She Made it a Year

I think you all know by now that I'm a Crazy Cat Lady. And if any of you follow me on Twitter or are friends with me on Facebook, you have probably seen my grumblings about my dear, sweet, adorable demon-spawn kitten, Dakota.

That's her in her carrier, AKA cat prison, just last week. She had to go to the mean, horrible, no-good, really-bad vet. It was AWFUL. The humans are mean to her. Very, very mean. They deserve lots of hisses and growls.

She doles them out in kind. Our vet is at PetSmart, and after our visit, I took her over to the cat toy aisle. Silly me, I thought it would help to make up for the awful visit to the mean vet if I got her a new toy. In the process, she hissed and growled at every human we passed, all of whom just wanted to look in her carrier and tell me how cute she is.

Yeah, I know she's cute. Trust me, I know it.

Well, as of the twelfth of this month, Dakota is officially a year old. And as of next Tuesday, she will have officially been part of my household for a full year, even though we only intended to keep her long enough to get her weaned and then find her a new home.

This is her on the day she arrived, in the palm of my sister's hand. My sister has TINY hands for an adult, by the way. Mine look monstrous compared to hers. So really, that's Dakota on the hand of say a 10-year-old girl, by comparison.

She was only two and a half weeks old when she came to live with me. Back then, she spent a lot of time sleeping in the make-shift incubator we made for her (an old bucket from cat litter with a few towels on the bottom, placed over a heating pad set to low).

Dakota had been abandoned by her mama cat on the day she was born--still covered in after-birth and with the umbilical cord attached. The lady who found her took her home, cleaned her up, and she and her husband spent a little over two weeks trying to keep up with the demands of this tiny little thing that probably didn't have any shot at survival, if not for their efforts.

Newborn kittens eat every two hours around the clock...did you know that? By the time she came to live with me, she was down to bottle feedings every three hours. Still a massive undertaking, but at least I worked from home, so I didn't have to make special trips home in the middle of my work day to feed her. Dakota's rescuer and her husband both worked full-time away from home. It was just too much for them to keep up with.

She was teeny-tiny! I don't remember how many ounces it was that she weighed when she came to live with us, but she was as small as the keys to my dad's pickup truck...and they were decidedly heavier than she was.

Not only that, but when it was mealtime, she wanted her bottle, and she wanted it now! I wish I had video of her guzzling her bottles. If we didn't give her a big enough hole in the nipple, she got frustrated, and my hands ended up bloodier than they needed to be, because she dug her little razor-claws into me in her frantic need to be fed, and be fed RIGHT THIS INSTANT.

She literally finished each bottle within seconds. Good thing I knew to burp her. Yes, you have to burp bottle-fed kitties and puppies, just like you have to burp bottle-fed human babies.

After the burping, she immediately wanted to curl up with me and take a nap, as pictured to the left.

Even back then, she had the makings of becoming a devil-kitty. We just didn't realize it. I mean, look how cute she was! See the innocent-sleepy-how-adorable-am-I look? See the cute ears that are barely starting to open and the blue baby kitty eyes and the little white socks and the adorableness just oozing out of her?

How could anything that cute possibly be a bad kitty cat?

How could anyone NOT love her to pieces?

Impossible. Ludicrous, even.

How can you resist this sweet little princess kitty who just wants to love you and be loved by you and steal your heart forever?

You can't.

And if you tried to resist the cuteness (seriously not worth the effort back then), she'd roll around on the floor and be cute all over again.

Seriously. Resistance is futile when it comes to bottle-fed baby kitties, just like when it comes to the Borg.

If that rolling around on the floor because her tummy was so full from guzzling her bottle as fast as she could possibly consume it routine wasn't enough to steal your heart (pictured to the left), well, seeing her tiny little self falling down into the edges of her cat bed while she napped it off would probably do it (below).

See the super-sleepy kitty look here? Yeah, it was an act designed to steal your heart.

Also, notice the tail pulled up between the legs? She started the chase-and-attack-the-tail routine long before she could chase anything very well.

That tail is long and dangerous. It needs to be caught. It needs to be killed. It needs to be put in its place, and Dakota will do it, darn you, humans.

Slowly but surely, though...well, actually, faster than we ever imagined...Dakota started to grow up. And with growing up, she started to get into things.

Here she is at about 6 weeks old or so, curled up ever-so-innocently around the power box that keeps one of the laptops charged.

What you don't see in the picture is all the teeth and claw marks all along the cord. I'm telling you, already, she was becoming a devil cat. Do not let the cute, innocent eyes fool you.

Being fooled by the cuteness only leads to more trouble.

Or here, where she's about four months old and looks like she couldn't possibly have been doing anything naughty. Yeah, don't buy it. Do not trust the innocent cat eyes for even a second. This was the look that likely came right after she got caught walking around on the kitchen table (a big no-no in my house) and knocking things off onto the floor. If not that, she'd just been doing something naughty. I promise.

Rule-breaker. That was her from a very young age.

It took a while for my older cat, Kiki, to warm up to her. I should have taken that as a sign of all of the trouble to come.

This picture was one I took the first time they shared my lap. Dakota was five months old by the time this happened. Notice Kiki was asleep, and Dakota came up to join her.

The cuddle session didn't last long. Once Kiki realized that the Bad Cat had joined her on my lap, she left. That was it. She was not going to share my lap with such a rule-breaker, such a demon cat who wanted to take over my life. Nope, the Kiks wasn't so sure about all of that.

She still isn't, for that matter. They don't cuddle. At best, you could say that Kiki puts up with Dakota. Most of the time. I don't think they'll ever be best buddies.

Still, even with everything going against her that she's had, this little demon-spawn, devil-cat, hell-beast kitty has somehow made it to a full year old.

Who woulda thunk it? Definitely not me.

She's decided that I am her human, though. Which only makes sense. Since she was a mere two-and-a-half weeks old, I'm the only mama she's ever known. (Darn the luck!)

Because of that, Dakota rarely lets me out of her sight. Here she is, "supervising" while I write. You can probably tell she takes this job very seriously.

Sadly, her bad habits have only intensified as she's gotten older. And none of the cuteness has abated.

I only wish I had video to share with you all of her leaping against the walls to turn the light switch on and off and on and off and on and off. One of these days, we'll catch it.

In the meanwhile, I'll just keep trying to find ways to deal with this little monster. There's no telling how much past a year she'll make it, though. Her lifespan outlook might depend on how many more times she drools on me when she wants me to get up and feed her in the mornings. :)

Have you ever taken on a pet, or a job or project, that was only supposed to be temporary and somehow ended up having it become permanent? Do you have a demon-spawn cat in your home? Do you want one?

Ya Got Trouble, My Friend

But it doesn't start with T. No, this trouble starts with L.

As in, Lady Scribes at RT.

You see, last week was the Romantic Times Readers Convention (otherwise known as RT) in Chicago. And, well, a number of your Lady Scribes were present.

One thing I've quickly learned when getting together with various other Lady Scribes members is that we will invariably attract more than our fair share of trouble.

At least at RT they had a means to deal with us.

Yes, that would be me, Baroness Blithe, alongside Viscountess Noir, Her Grace of Grammar, the Countess of Whimsy, Lady Intrigue, and the Countess of Content...all in jail. Together. Somehow, Erin Knightley, aka the Duchess of Delight, escaped this punishment. Don't ask me how it happened. I couldn't tell you.

And no, it isn't because I had had too many drinks. I didn't start drinking until after we'd escaped our imprisonment that night. It might have had something to do with the fact that she is a social butterfly, and was off charming someone's socks off them. She has a knack for that.

There were countless moments where we got to dress up in costumes.

Such as here, where Ava Stone tried to make off with a Scot. And now I'm wondering when she might write a Scot into a story...

She hooked up with a Steampunk version of Erin Knightley, too. That's an odd looking couple, if I ever saw one. :)

Or here, where Samantha Grace let loose in her flapper outfit.

Here's another one. The lovely Heather Snow and Erin Knightley were ready to Charleston!

Jerrica Knight-Catania didn't need an outfit to ride away with the show.

For that matter, all Jane Charles needed was a glass of wine and some good music. (Yes, the blur in her hand IS a glass of wine.)

But RT wasn't all just about the costumes. We had more serious moments, too. Quiet. Stoic. Pensive. Reflective.

Well, some of us did. Clearly, both the Ava Stone half of Lydia Dare (aka the Countess) and the Tammy Falkner half of Lydia Dare (aka the tavern wench) were otherwise occupied and couldn't be bothered to be serious. Hmmm...I can't imagine why. (Did you SEE those smiles???)

And...well, I'll just show him to you and let you decide for yourself how serious he was.

I think they said his name was Bluebeard. Can't remember. Don't ask me why my memory is so shoddy. It couldn't have anything to do with the espresso chocolate martinis.

Neither could this.

No, seriously. I don't think Ava Stone and Samantha Grace were drinking the espresso chocolate martinis. Possibly cosmos and wine and...well...you get the picture.

But I digress. Back to what RT was really all about.

There were book signings...

There were photo shoots...(way to @$^& early in the morning, Catherine grumbles beneath her breath)...

That's the lovely Rose Gordon right in the middle of several of us, in case you were wondering.

There were workshops and games and prizes...

See the lovely Erin Knightley being dubbed a countess after playing Who Wants to be a Duchess? (Don't ask me why a countess needs a feather duster. I haven't quite figured that one out. I might still be trying to catch up on my sleep...)

And here the two of us are together, with our tiaras and boas and whatnot. She was still a mere countess. I, however, was a duchess. You may feel free to "Your Grace" me. I won't mind.

We mixed with other writers and readers, agents and editors, cover models, and just about everyone else involved in the romance community.

RT was my first conference, but it won't be my last. As a matter of fact, as you read this, I'm probably on my way back to Chicago to go to Spring Fling. We'll see if I come home with so much incriminating evidence...I mean with so many books and so much swag. (The stuff I shipped home just got here. Twenty-eight pounds of free books and swag. Oy!)

I had so much stuff, I decided to give some of it to my cats.

Too bad I already had to take it away. They were having a blast with it, but then one of them started puking feathers. Bye bye, feather boa.

Anyway, this should give you a little glimpse into what the Lady Scribes who were present at this year's RT were up to. I know I'll be going back again next year...with an extra, empty suitcase in order to lug everything home!

Have you been to any readers or writers conventions? Do you want to go but just haven't been able to yet? And if you were there, how much will we have to bribe you with in order to keep you quiet about...um...well, I'm sure there's something we need to have kept quiet. Darn those espresso chocolate martinis! So how much?

**Originally published at Lady Scribes**

A Shortcut to Mushrooms

I love a good shortcut.

When I'm driving, I'll even take a longcut, if it takes me less time to get where I'm going. From my house to the bank, for example, it is about three miles if I go through town, but it easily takes twenty minutes. But if I get on the loop, it is seven miles or so...but it only takes ten minutes. I'll take the loop, please.

In terms of writing, I've picked up on a few shortcuts to make my editing process take less time. For one thing, I discovered that if I spent more time in the planning stages, really delving into my characters and plot before I ever wrote a word, I could often do a couple of brief, easy editing passes and be done. Without that extra time up front? I'd often do two to three complete rewrites, and give myself a month-long migraine in the process. Another of my shortcuts is I keep a list of words and phrases that I know I tend to overuse. Once I finish my WIP, I pull that list out and do a quick search, and then eliminate or replace 90% of the instances of those words and phrases.

I've picked up a few shortcuts with cooking, over the years. Most grocery stores sell fresh fruits and veggies already washed and prepped for cooking. Yeah, you might pay a little more...but you save a ton of time on prepwork. If I'm making chicken fajitas, why cook the chicken myself when I can buy it already seasoned, cooked, and sliced? All I have to do is heat it up. One of my favorite newer finds are the Philadelphia Cream Cheese Cooking Cremes. Make your favorite pasta, choose a protein and a few veggies, throw it all together, and add the cooking creme. Voila! You've got a great tasting, quick and easy meal.

I'm guilty of occasionally taking a shortcut in terms of reading. Well, I guess that isn't technically right. I mean, if I watch the movie but don't read the book, I didn't really read anything. Still, it only takes a couple of hours to watch the movie versus however many hours it might take to read the book. (Note that I still usually read the book afterwards, so I'm not sure I'm really saving myself any time.)

I have not fallen prey to the shortcut my sister has taken, I'm proud to say. She hates doing laundry, so when she runs out of clean clothes, she goes and buys more. Um...yeah, I think I'll just wash my clothes, thanks.

Maybe my favorite shortcut I've discovered in recent months, though, is John Freida foam hair color. I've been coloring my hair at home for years (I won't mention how young I was when I started turning gray), and it has always annoyed me how long it takes to put the dye on my hair. Not only that, but I've got a LOT of hair, so it often takes two boxes of any color to get all of mine. But with the foam hair color, the time it takes to apply it is cut down drastically...and no matter how much hair I have, I only need one box. It's amazing. Not only that, but I've never had weird patches with this one.

Do you always look for shortcuts, even if they might seem like a longcut? Do you have any recommendations for the rest of us on how to save time in our way-too-busy days? Bonus points to anyone who knows where the title for this post came from. Just don't ask me what the bonus points will get you. I haven't the slightest. :)

**Originally published at Lady Scribes**

Dear Jack: A Rant

This post could alternately be entitled: Would You Freaking Let Me Finish Placing My Freaking Order Already???

I try not to eat fast food too often. It isn't good for me, and since I try to eat somewhat healthy foods for the most part, I usually feel kind of gross after I do. But when I've got a deadline, the idea of taking the time to cook usually goes out the window, and the idea of picking something up at the drive-thru becomes rather appealing. Besides, I'm already not cleaning the house or showering as much as I should be when I'm under a deadline, so I'm already a little gross in those instances, so what's the harm in adding a little more of a gross feeling from eating fast food if it saves me the time it would take to cook and wash dishes?

That's where I was late last month.

Even though I don't eat at any fast food restaurants all that often, I really don't eat at Jack-in-the-Box very often at all. It had been so long since I'd eaten there that I could no longer remember what my aversion was to them. I mean, their food is as okay as any of the other burger joints. Why didn't I ever go there? Couldn't remember, but my brother had told me that their burgers were better now. They've started seasoning them as they cook, and so they taste less like a fast food burger and more like one you'd make at home.

So, in my deadline haze, and since I couldn't remember why I avoid JitB, I decided to go there to pick up my meal and take it back to the writing cave one day.

Here's how the drive-thru experience went:

Jack's Order Taker: "Welcome to Jack-in-the-Box. My name is Fill-in-random-name-here. Would you like to try our Fill-in-random-combo-of-the-day-that-they've-been-ordered-to-push today for only $4.99?"

Me: "No thanks. Can I get a number three, small siz--"

Jack's Order Taker: "That's a number three combo. Would you like that in small, medium, or large today?"

Me: grumble beneath my breath that I was in the process of answering that very question when they interrupted me. "Small sized with a sweet te--"

Jack's Order Taker: "What drink you would like with your small combo today?"

Me: fuming from my ears at this point, as I suddenly remember why I never visit the Jack-in-the-Box drive-thru. "I want a sweet tea and regular fri--"

Jack's Order Taker: "Great, that's a number three combo, small sized with a sweet tea. Did you want regular fries or curly fries with your combo?"

Me: trying to power my way through the rest of the order to avoid any more interruptions. "Regular-fries-and-I-want-the-burger-made-with-no-sau--"

Jack's Order Taker: "Regular fries. Got it. Does the order look correct on the screen?"

Me: nearly yelling. "No, because I don't want any sauce on my burger and I was trying to tell you that if you would have just stopped interrupting me and listened for--"

Jack's Order Taker: snippy tone. "No sauce. Is the order correct on your screen now?"

Me: ripping out hair in frustration. "YES!"

Now I remember why I don't go to Jack-in-the-Box. (As a side note, the burgers do taste better now.) In fact, I can only remember one instance in the last decade or more when I've gone to a JitB drive-thru and been able to place my order without the order taker interrupting me every few seconds to ask me a question which I was already in the process of answering. I never experienced that order taker again, and I have to believe it is because the poor guy got fired for letting me get through the process without following their obsessively annoying script. Such a shame.

So Jack and your corporate executives who have created this process? It stinks. It makes placing an order take three times as long, it frustrates your customers, and it has convinced me not to go back...despite your better tasting burgers.

Are the JitB drive-thrus this bad where you live? Are there any other places you refuse to go because of annoying customer service practices?

**Originally published at Lady Scribes**

You Might Be a Crazy Cat Lady

I have another confession to make.

Despite all of my promises to myself to avoid this fate, I am a Crazy Cat Lady.

As a kid growing up, we weren't allowed to have pets because Mom claimed she was allergic and couldn't handle them, but I always wanted a cat. When I moved out on my own, I thought about getting a cat to keep me company, but since I'd never had one before, I was nervous that I wouldn't know what to do...so I didn't get a cat.

But then I had roommates with cats. In fact, there was one point where I was living in a single hotel room with three other people and eight cats for about a month. (Five of those eight were kittens who were too young to be separated from their mother.) It was then that I knew, without a doubt, that someday I would have my own cats.

When I had a different roommate--one who also had cats--she surprised me one day by bringing me a kitten of my very own. Ever since that day, I've always had at least one cat, more often two.

I have never, however, had three cats at a time. Well, except for that one time when there was a wormy, little stray kitten meowing in my bushes that I took in for a week or so until she was healthy.

And then there have been the times that my sister has been living here, with her cat.

And I suppose there have been a few times where I've done some pet sitting for friends and family, and their cats have come to stay with me and mine.

But I've never had three cats at once where I was intending to keep all of them. So there is that.

Still, over the years, I've come to realize that even if I don't have a dozen cats at my house, I am a bit of a crazy cat lady. How did I come to this realization? Try answering the following questions, and see where you end up.

What tone of voice do you use with your cats?

1. Authoritative, no-nonsense, my way or the highway.
2. An average, everyday sort of speaking voice.
3. Baby talk, sugar-wooger sweetikins, what a good girl you are!

Do you give your cats any sort of food other than regular cat food?

1. Strictly the dry cat food recommended by my veterinarian, with the once-monthly can of soft food.
2. Usually their normal cat food, but we do keep a bit of catnip around for special occasions.
3. Cat food, catnip, ten varieties of cat treats, table scraps, milk, cheese, yogurt...nothing's too good for my kitties.

Where do your cats sleep?

1. Not in the bedroom. Bedrooms are for humans.
2. In their special cat beds which are in the bedroom, but not in my bed.
3. In my bed, on my pillow, on me...wherever they decide they're going to sleep.

How many toys do you have for your cat?

1. Toys are for children, not cats.
2. Pumpkin has her three favorite toy mice and a couple of feather toys.
3. My house is littered with cat toys, both the purchased variety and those the cat stole from the trash can and made into cat toys.

How does your furniture look?

1. Pristine. No cat hair to be found, and not a single claw mark in any pieces. My cats are declawed.
2. Eh. There's some cat hair that I haven't gotten to in a week or so, and we buy furniture that is not too enticing for kitties to use for claw sharpening.
3. Thank goodness it is all hand-me-down, because wow, my cats have done a number on it.

How often do you travel?

1. Whenever I want. Butch can go to the kennel and be just fine while I'm gone.
2. Occasionally, as long as I can be sure Fluffy's favorite pet sitter is available.
3. Travel? Are you crazy? I couldn't leave my babies all alone!

If you answered with mostly A's, you might need to loosen up a little bit. If your answers were mostly B's, then you're probably fairly normal in terms of cat ownership. If you answered with primarily C's, however, then I am afraid I must break it to you...like me, you might just be a Crazy Cat Lady.

It's okay, though. You're in good company.

So tell me, are there any other Crazy Cat Ladies out there? Are any of you the same way with your dogs?

**Originally published at Lady Scribes**

The Word I've Always Avoided Using About Myself

I'm fat.

There. I said it. It's out there, and I can't take it back unless I do something to change it.

When I was a kid, I was "chubby" or I told people I hadn't lost my baby fat. As a teenager, I was "fluffy," or I think that was the term we tended to use at the time. As a twenty-something, I tended to go with "curvy" as the term of choice. When my thirties hit, I started to use terms more like "overweight" or "plus-size."

But none of those really get to the heart of the matter. They're words that I used to make myself feel better about  myself, when I didn't really feel all that good about myself. They were supposed to make it less painful to face the truth, I guess, but they really just glossed over the truth.

Because the truth is I'm fat. Obese works, as well. Neither of those are terms that seek to hide the facts.

In other areas of my life, I've never been shy to call a spade a spade. If something needs to change, I either change it myself, or I point it out to someone who can make the change. I'm not one to bite my tongue. But for some reason, in this area of my life, I've never been willing or able to face the facts, to admit to the truth. One thing I've learned in life, though, is that until we come face to face with reality, we'll never change.

So I'm facing the truth today. I'm fat. I'm obese. I'm not just curvy or fluffy or plus-sized. I'm the writer who sits behind the computer screen all day, drowning myself with coffee and eating all sorts of things that are bad for me, until one day I get on an airplane and almost can't fasten the seat belt because I'm too fat. I'm the aunt who can't run after a kite with my nephew because I'm too fat and out of shape, so I have to be sure someone else is with us who can run with him, or who can't take him on rides at the amusement park because I don't fit.  I'm the diner at the restaurant who insists on a table and not a booth, because I never know if I'll be able to fit between the table and the bench.

But that doesn't mean that's how I have to stay.

I recently decided to lose weight, and I joined Weight Watchers. I think I'm going to join a gym, too, because if I spend the money on it I'm far more likely to use it and actually work out.

I don't think I want to change the statement at the beginning of this blog post to "I'm skinny" or anything like that. I don't think I'll ever be skinny. But I do want to be able to someday, in the not too distant future, say "I'm healthy." That'd be nice.

Are there any words you've avoided using about yourself that maybe you should start using? Are you willing to make a change and get healthy with me?

**Originally published at Lady Scribes**

Floating Away

I don't think it will come as a surprise to anyone who knows much about me to hear that I've been a wee bit stressed lately. The holidays are always a rough time of the year for me, and this year was exceptionally difficult with several family illnesses and the like.

To add insult to injury however, I have...well...an injury. A hilariously pathetic injury, to be sure, but there you have it.

You see, my entire life, I've had this really bad habit of sleeping on my stomach, with my arm stretched out above me and under my pillow, not to mention under my head. I can't tell you how many times I have awoken in the morning with pain in my shoulder because the weight of my head had kept my arm in a bad position for hours on end.

That happened a little over a month ago, only worse than normal. I figured I'd slept on it really poorly all night, and after a day or two the achy soreness would go away and I'd be back to normal.

I was wrong.

The pain didn't go away, and in fact it kept getting worse. On top of it all, even though my arm and shoulder hurt like the blazes, I couldn't prevent myself from sleeping in that really bad, not good position. I'd fall asleep one way, and wake up with that same, hurting arm stretched out beneath me, throbbing and screaming for relief.

Well, after a few weeks of this happening, I finally decided I'd better go to the doctor, because it didn't seem like I had just slept on it funny any more.

Guess what? I've torn my rotator cuff. From sleeping wrong. Seriously.

Like I said. Pathetic. Hilarious, perhaps, but pathetic nonetheless.

Anyway, to help rehabilitate the injury I've been getting regular massages since I discovered the problem. Yay for massage! They feel great. They're helping with the rest of the stress, too.

I've also bought some wedge-shaped pillows to put under my legs and my head, to keep me sleeping on my back at night so that I don't do more damage than I've already done. They're helping. It's all helping.

But there are still some days where I wake up and I'm in pain and I can't concentrate and oh my gravy it hurts, and there's no massage on the schedule. I had one of those days recently, and it happened on a day when I'd just recently seen someone tweet about a place in the area where they'd gone "floating."

Now, I'm as skeptical as they come, so I didn't know what this meant, but I did a little research. Because, owie of all owies, I hurt and I needed to do SOMETHING. Anything. I didn't care, I just wanted it to stop hurting.

After a little research, I decided to give this floating thing a try. I made an appointment and I went...and it was the best thing ever. Seriously.

They have these tanks filled with an epsom salt solution that is heated to the temperature of your skin. There's so much epsom salt in the water that it is impossible to keep your body from floating. Once you get in and put your legs out, you float. Period. Anyway, you go in and start floating, and within minutes you can't even feel where the water is touching your skin any more, and you relax and stop thinking...and it is the most peaceful thing I have ever experienced in my life.

I spent an hour in my floatation tank, and thought about nothing at all. No stress. No worries. No pain. The epsom salt soak helped to pull the soreness out of my shoulder and arm.

When I left, I still felt like I was floating for a few hours. But even better, my pain was diminished for several days...and I was able to start working again.

I can't say I've ever experienced anything like it before in my life--something so relaxing and refreshing and stress-free. I'm sure I'll be doing it again.

When you get stressed, what is your favorite way to unwind? How do you find a place where you can clear your mind?

**Originally published at Lady Scribes**

Make it Work

Tim Gunn's onto something, you know?

If you don't watch Project Runway, what's wrong with you? Oops, I meant to say: if you don't watch Project Runway, Tim Gunn is the aspiring fashion designers' mentor. He delivers them their challenges, tells them the constraints they'll be working within ("You have $10 and 1.25 hours for this challenge of designing an avant garde showpiece."), and comes in during their work time to talk things through with them, giving his honest take on what is working and what isn't working. And, inevitably, at some point during every episode he'll say, "Make it work."

It's a simply phrase, a simple concept, but a difficult thing to put into action. Still, whenever I get frustrated with whatever project where I've bitten off more than I think I can chew, or when I write myself into a corner that I can't see the way out of, or when I am too easily distracted by things in my current writing venue to concentrate--any time any of those things happen, I hear Tim's voice in my head saying, "Make it work."

I used to just let those frustrations get the best of me. I'd set the writing project aside and say I couldn't fix it. I'd go for weeks or months without writing, because I was "stuck." I'd tell myself that my idea was too big, too bold, something that another writer was capable of but not me.

That's not really the best way of handling these things, though. Or so I've found.

You see, just because the idea is something unfamiliar and not one I've tackled before, that doesn't mean I can't do it, and do it well, and make it work within the niche I've carved for myself even if, on the surface, it doesn't seem like a good fit. It just means I've got to get creative and make it work.

Just because I've written myself into a corner doesn't mean I can't figure out a better solution, if I sit down (maybe with a trusted CP or two) and talk it through. And it doesn't even mean that I have to immediately toss 20+ pages of hard work. It just means that I've got to buckle down, put my nose to the grindstone as my Grandpa always used to tell me, and make it work.

Just because there are distractions where I'm currently working doesn't mean I can't change locations and find somewhere new to work. Too many things going on at home? Try Starbucks. Too expensive/loud/crowded/etc. at Starbucks? Try the local library. Too quiet/stuffy/stale at the library? Try the park/mall/a friend's house while they're at work if they'll give you a key. The key is to recognize what the problem is before it becomes too much of a problem, and then make it work.

Why am I writing about this right now? I've been in a funk, and trying to convince myself that the problem is one of those things listed above, or one of countless other excuses for not getting my writing done. In reality, though, I've just got to make it work.

Thank you, Tim Gunn.

**Originally published at Lady Scribes**

NaNoWriMo - 1/3 of the Way There

How many of you out there are doing NaNoWriMo this year? Raise your hands.

I'm doing it. But I'm cheating. The rule is that you're supposed to start on a new WIP and write 50,000 words. Well, I don't have time to set aside my current WIP, but I still need to get in 50,000 words...so I'm breaking the rule and using the manuscript I already had in progress.

I'm only counting new words, though. :)

So...if you're participating in NaNo, you should be about 1/3 of the way done with your 50,000 words at this point. Are you? I'm close, but not quite at that mark. Darn the early part of the month being filled with birthdays in my family. It doesn't get any easier in the later part of the month, either--that is Thanksgiving, which means lots of family functions.

Still, I'm finding a way to get my words in.

At this point in the game, though, those who are new to NaNo might be feeling stuck or frustrated, or both. Here are some handy-dandy tips and tricks for getting yourself unstuck.

• Don't try to sit down and write with the idea of "I have 41,209 words left to write. Augh!" Sit down and say to yourself, "I'm going to write for the next twenty minutes, and I want to write 300 words in that time." Three hundred words is a page. You can write a page in 20 minutes. Break it into easy chunks.
• If a particular scene is giving you fits, skip it. Move ahead to a scene that you know exactly how it will play out. It might give you what you needed to write the earlier scene, but no matter what, at least you'll be writing. You don't have to write everything in order.
• Can't figure out the best way to work out the details of a scene, talk it out with someone. Go to a Write-In with your local NaNo Region, call up a critique partner, talk to the guy on the train who stares blindly at you while you're talking to yourself, or if all else fails--talk to a pet or a stuffed animal. Sometimes, just saying it out loud helps you to work through your blocks.
• Don't like your current NaNo project? Scrap it. That's right, toss it in the drawer and pull something else out. (Be sure to keep counting the words you wrote on the scrapped project, though.) No one says that this project is the one you have to write. Write what you want to write.
• Try doing a word war with someone else. If you're on Twitter, look for the #1k1hr hashtag and you'll likely find people doing them. It's easier to get a bunch of words out if you know you'll get a break in a certain amount of time. I'm fond of doing 30 minute sprints sometimes, so you might find me using hashtag #500in30.
• Remember that this is supposed to be fun. If it is stressing you out, maybe NaNo isn't right for you. Or maybe the project you're trying to write isn't the right thing for you. If you're not having fun, reevaluate why you're doing it in the first place.
• Enable Freedom. Freedom is a cheap software program (for both Mac and PC) that will disable your ability to connect to the internet for a set period of time. You set the time. It's amazing how much work I can get done if I'm not checking my email every ten minutes, looking to see what the authors I stalk on Twitter have tweeted, and playing games on Facebook.

What other suggestions do you have for getting through the slog that is the middle part of NaNoWriMo?

**Originally published at Lady Scribes**

Bleeding on the Page

Life's been rough lately. I can't even try to hide it, not in real life, because I've randomly been bursting into tears at the oddest moments, and I've been unable to concentrate on the things I need to concentrate on, and I tell random strangers things about my life that they never wanted or needed to know.

The things going on on the inside have been finding a way out, whether it is the way I wanted them to come out or not.

Now, I'm not telling you this for sympathy or anything like that. We all go through rough patches, and we all find ways to deal with them. I'm no different. I'm finding ways to cope. (And yes, if you're wondering, I'm seeking counseling during this traumatic time.)

No, I'm talking about this because it has found another, slightly annoying, means of coming out of me.

It's coming out in my writing.

The project I'm currently working on was supposed to be happy. Sunshine and rainbows, and all that other stuff. Yeah, that hasn't happened. I'm still finding ways to put humor into it, but the characters and the plot have gone a very different direction than what I envisioned before I sat down and put fingers to keys.

My hero all of a sudden has a dark and tortured path. And my heroine's entire world was just ripped out from under her, leaving her a crying, pained mess. Much like me.

No, what is going on with her is not the same thing as what is going on with me...but the emotions are all the same, the whole big bag of random, unexplainable, annoying emotions that have lately taken over my life.

I'm not sure if, subconsciously, I'm trying to deal with them myself through dealing with them with this character. Maybe some small part of me thinks that if she gets a happy ending, I will too. One can only hope that is the case. :) But at least I can be sure my heroine gets one.

As a writer, have you ever had something similar happen, where your current situation somehow bleeds onto the page? As a reader, do you find yourself drawn to books that convey the emotions you're experiencing in your real life, or do you prefer the opposite? Have you ever put down a book or a writing project because it hit too close to home?

**Originally published at Lady Scribes**