Just dropping in to say TTFN. I’m off tonight to Kingston (Ontario) to attend the Writers’ Festival. I’ll be back Sunday night. The best part about this trip is that I’m staying close to one of the spots I envisioned in The Magician’s Curse. Perfect for getting back into the books! The hotel will likely serve as inspiration for a major setting in the prequel, which I’m editing now.
I’ll probably check in here and there, but I’m handing the SoCS reins over to my friend Dan Antion this weekend. Thanks, Dan!
Look out for plenty of photos. Fingers crossed that the cold I feel coming on will give up fighting the Vitamin C and just go away.
Anyhoo, be nice to Dan. I’ll be thinking of you all.
I got ahead of myself this week, so you almost got a One-Liner Wednesday on a Tuesday. I don’t know if that’s better or worse, for the sake of the weekend.
Here’s a picture.
If you would like to participate in this prompt, feel free to use the “One-Liner Wednesday” title in your post, and if you do, you can ping back here to help your blog get more exposure. To execute a pingback, just copy the URL in the address bar on this post, and paste it somewhere in the body of your post. Your link will show up in the comments below. Please ensure that the One-Liner Wednesday you’re pinging back to is this week’s! Otherwise, no one will likely see it but me.
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As with Stream of Consciousness Saturday (SoCS), if you see a pingback from someone else in my comment section, click and have a read. It’s bound to be short and sweet.
Unlike SoCS, this is not a prompt so there’s no need to stick to the same “theme.”
The rules that I’ve made for myself (but don’t always follow) for “One-Liner Wednesday” are:
1. Make it one sentence.
2. Try to make it either funny or inspirational.
3. Use our unique tag #1linerWeds.
4. Add our lovely badge to your post for extra exposure!
Hey! I know what you’re thinking–Linda made it to her own party (SoCS) on time for once! No? Okay, just humor me. That’s what you’re thinking, okay?
I’m writing early because I’m off to a concert tonight. No, it’s not rap. Going to see The Glorious Sons in their hometown of Kingston. I’m not sure how late I’ll be home, and I may be exhausted, so here I am. Wrapping my post up in a neat little package.
I do like wrapping things up. The feeling of completeness that comes with wrapping things–the neatness of it–is satisfying. I can’t stand wrapping presents, though. Don’t tell my family.
Especially at Christmas, because I always leave it to the last minute, at which point it feels like a bit of a waste of time. But if I wrapped the gifts and put them under the tree early, the dog would eat them. He loves eating paper. And the last thing I want to see is gift-wrapped poop sitting in the snow in my back yard.
A hand-me-down from a friend of my mother’s–a friend my mother no longer remembers.
They weren’t friends for long. Perhaps a few years.
The robe was too big for the friend, and my mother didn’t want it.
So here it is.
It’s a fluffy robe. Comfortable and warm on cold winter mornings when I get up in the dark of five o’clock to feed Alex. My fluffy slippers are pink. In them, with the robe, I’m sure I must look like a tired, less-than-sweet ball of candy floss.
It’s all pastel, this outfit.
Or would that be an infit, considering I’d never be caught dead outside in it?
And infit.
Yeah.
So, it’s 3:14am and I’m still up and I shouldn’t be. I should be shrugging on my blue hand-me-down candy-floss robe and crawling off to beddiebyes.
Sitting on the couch, writing this and eating chips, it occurred to me that if I put a chip on the seat beside me, it would literally be a couch potato.
Couch–such a versatile word. As a verb it can mean how you phrase or word something … how you couch it.
The advice goes that if you want to write a book, you’ve got to get your butt in the chair.
But I sit on the couch to write.
Which means I can couch it “get your butt on the couch.”
Which is what I’m doing now: writing with my couch potatoes.
In the grand scheme of things, I’m not that bad off.
When you think about suffering, there are many degrees. There’s having your house burn down around you (that’s really suffering), and then there’s sitting in your living room and being hot but the fan is aaall the way over on the other side of the room (that’s also suffering, but to the 1/1,000,000th degree).
Do I feel empathy for both of those people? Sure. In about the same degrees in which they’re suffering.
I try not to complain about my personal challenges because I have it relatively good.
But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel sympathy for those who have it even easier than I do.
Because a struggle is a struggle. And you never know where someone else’s breaking point lies.
Right now I’m in my own living room, drinking a beer, the dog sleeping beside me. I finished work for the day at 1am, and I feel good about what I accomplished, even though I didn’t complete what I set out to for the day.
I’m grateful for all the well wishes for my MRI–I should get the results this week coming.
For now, my eyesight is good. And there’s no rain in the forecast–the barometer is holding steady, which is likely why I can see.
Now, it’s almost 2am, and I still have writing of my own to do.
First, thanks to everyone who participated in and commented on my One-Liner Wednesday and my SoCS. I’ve read all your wonderful comments, and I shall strive to reply to them all tomorrow.
Speaking of tomorrow, I’m going to get my MRI done on my noggin at 7am. I have to be at the hospital 45 minutes early, so that’ll be fun.
Wish me luck. 🙂
P.S. From the date the doctor ordered the MRI to the date of the test was almost exactly one month, for those wondering what the wait times are really like in Canada. Is that much longer than it would take in the US? Just wondering.
When everything in the universe seems to cooperate, to get you what you want?
I managed to get out for the evening tonight with my best friend, John. We went to a bar down at the waterfront and listened to live music.
This was our view. Yes, it’s just the moon shining on the water. The picture sucks, but the moon was spectacular.
It’s been a long time since we hung out, outside of one of our houses, without being surrounded by kids. I’d forgotten what it’s like to be an adult. I think we caregivers need that sort of break once in a while.
Time to remember we’re us, that we’re individuals in our own right and not just someone else’s support.
Because it’s easy to get lost in that. The things we define ourselves as are what we become.
Mother, daughter, writer, editor, housekeeper, chauffeur, administrator, business owner …
I’m rarely not wearing a hat. And in that moment of wearing that hat, it’s all I am.
Okay, the first question is one I ask regularly and has nothing to do with what I really want to write about. I ask myself where I’m going on a daily, sometimes hourly basis when I get up to do something and I have so much on my mind that I forget what I got up for.
Writing that, I realize it’s all the same beast.
I have too many things on the go. I’m taking courses to further my editing career (please don’t judge this post on any level where grammar is concerned–I’m not allowed to edit it), and I’m taking courses to further my writing career. I’m working full time at the editing job, part time at the writing gig, and learning to boot.
As my mother would say, I’ve got too many minds to go mad.
I have a schedule for myself–my editing and my writing–but that’s all I have listed. Then there are the dozens of other things I do during the day.
I swear, I take multi-tasking to a whole ‘nother level. And what’s worse? I’m still not getting everything done that I need to do.
The good news is I’ve got a few new novels coming out–I’ve written two and a half since November and finished another one. And at least one of those novels will be free for subscribers to my newsletter! Which I have to get organized and start sending out regularly. It’s got cobwebs on it at the moment.
Crickets.
Crickets stuck in cobwebs.
Where was I?
Haha! See what I mean?
So yeah. I’m afraid something is going to have to give, and I have no idea what. It SHOULD probably be social media. I’ve already all but given up my constant Twittering. Facebook is like the alien in Alien–stuck to my face and breeding somewhere in my innards.
There’s something to think about just before bed.
You can see the authoring thing is something I come by honestly. It doesn’t stop.
The imagination, that is. Not stealing other people’s ideas …
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