the day after a manic Monday

The weekend slid by without much drama, crisis, or fanfare. But hey, it wasn’t Monday yet. Little did I know Monday was preparing to kick my ass. And kick my ass it did. imagesThe week started simple enough—fresh bagels and blessed coffee. Who doesn’t like waking up to the prospect of fresh bagels, right? The night before I’d made a trip to Whole Foods to pick up a few things. The bagels were an afterthought. They’re great toasted smeared with cream cheese, right? That is, if they’re already sliced. Trust me on this. Unfortunately I bought the kind that wasn’t pre-cut. Simple fix. I take one out to toast, but first it needs cutting in half. This is where things go very wrong. I sliced open my finger instead of cutting the bagel. I’m bleeding like I’ve been stabbed so I grab a kitchen towel, wrap it around the wound to stop the flow of blood. All that red has ruined my bagel. After finally getting the bleeding under control, I’m out of the mood for the bagel. Totally. I throw back my caffeine fix like I’ve been a castaway on some tropical island for the past seven years. After getting enough coffee in me, I decide to run to the store for more Neosporin to smear on my owie. I’m also out of Band-Aids. Anyway, I get to my car, which is parked in the garage, and it won’t start. Nothing. It seems I have a dead battery because the night before—after making the trip to Whole Foods—I left the door open all night. The seat belt apparently got tangled up and kept the door from closing. After waiting for AAA to show up, I start out to the store and discover the place where I shop had a power outage during the night and they’re closed until further notice. At this point, I give up and surrender to Monday’s black hole. I drive back home, close the drapes, and crawl into bed. I figure I’ll try this again when it’s not Monday.

mermaid Monday


One wall of my office with whimsical art.

The mermaid always reminds me it’s okay to giggle even when Skye Cree has a serial killer in her sights.


Always be yourself unless you can be a mermaid, then always be a mermaid.

Mermaids don’t lose sleep over the opinions of shrimp.

Be a mermaid. Make waves.

Friday is just funnier


My theory on housework is, if the item doesn’t multiply, smell, catch fire, or block the refrigerator door, let it be. No one else cares. Why should you?

~ Erma Bombeck












Have a great weekend!

Writing: a slow process

 Slow and steady

George RR Martin @GeorgeRRMartin_  ·  15h 15 hours ago 

Harper Lee is going to publish a sequel after 55 years…

and you people think I write slow.

7,858 Retweets 6,466 Favorites

I found this tweet funnier than anything I’ve seen in a long time. Of course, the original tweeter was George R.R. Martin’s parody account. But I found it hilarious that the real George was one of the thousands who retweeted it. Which shows it pays to have a sense of humor. It seems everyone wants George (the real George) to write his Game of Thrones books faster so that the HBO series won’t run out of material. “Write Faster George” has been a mantra all over the Internet for almost 18 months.

If you’re a writer, whether you write a novel or a blog, if you attempt to set down your thoughts for all to see, you know the feeling of staring at that empty, blank screen and waiting for inspiration. You’re also familiar with the panic that ensues when nothing comes to mind. Nothing. Some people often refer to this phenomenon as “writer’s block.” I don’t believe George suffers from writer’s block at all.

Simply put. Writing takes time. Even when it’s George Martin.


When there’s only one person doing the writing it takes months sometimes years to produce a book.

My process is not that difficult. I outline my work ahead of time, plan on what to release and pick a month I want the book to come out. I try to stick with the plan. Because of that it seems like readers have the impression that I can write a book in three months or less. My process isn’t a writing contest like NaNoWriMo. For all those writers who are able to write a novel in a month, my hat is off to you. Way to go! But it doesn’t hold true for me. From outline to release date it takes me at least a year to write  a book.

If I were a writing machine like, say, James Patterson, I could put out tons of  books a year.  But I’m not. I’m just me. And I sympathize with George R.R. Martin who everyone wants to write faster. Books take time.

So I say, George, keep up the good work and take however long you need.