I’ll just have to pick up the pieces next year

2016 is almost over and it ends with a crash when I run headlong into all of my deadlines without any finished books. It’s been an intense year for me, this first year in my new role as an author. It’s even difficult to write that word, since so many people think that it doesn’t count if you haven’t been published by a traditional publisher and they don’t consider me an author, despite the stack of books on my desk filled with stories that I wrote.

Well, I don’t care, they can call me what they want. Mostly, I just think of myself as tired. That’s the only label I’m comfortable with. The only thing I can be sure of. That I didn’t sleep well last night, and I won’t sleep well tonight either.

Tonight I’ve got a very good excuse, though, since I’m staying up to binge watch six hours of TV goodness. The Gilmore Girls are back and since I haven’t been able to find a TV show that satisfies me in the same way that Amy Sherman-Palladino’s masterpiece did, I have no intention of pacing myself. I have nine years of unsatisfactory TV watching to make up for. Since I’m a poster child (woman) for instant gratification, there’s no way that I’ll watch one episode a week or something like that, like we did in the stone age. No, I’m going to watch the entire thing in one sitting. I’ll laugh and I’ll cry and I’ll throw sofa cushions on anyone who tries to get between me and the TV.

But what about the writing? you ask. What writing? My good computer has been in the shop for three weeks and I’m using an old stone-and-chisel type replacement to hack out this blog post and keep up with my day job.

I had such big plans for this year. I was going to have the entire Scandinavian Winter Series done, and several shorter stories to use for marketing and, well, just for fun. But the year has not been a good one, writing wise. It’s been a struggle to make room in my day-to-day life for this new career without the rent-paying day job or my beloved family having to pay the price. Mostly I’ve paid it, in stress and lack of sleep. Not that much sweat, sorry, Debbie Allen! But the year is coming to an end and I’m going to have to accept the fact that I couldn’t do it. I  kept thinking I could catch up, all year. I even planned to try and keep up with the NaNo:ers this November and maybe finish a project or two, but nope.

Now, if I’d had a publisher, they would probably have dropped me when I didn’t make my deadlines. But since I’m doing this more or less on my own, I only have my readers to answer to. I’m hoping you won’t be too disappointed when Hold On isn’t out in time for Christmas, as promised. I’m hoping you’ve got other books to read until I manage to get some quality writing time and can dive into Susan and Lynxx’s relationship. It feels like I’ve been waiting forever to get to them. But it just wasn’t on the cards for 2016. 

To be fair, I had the entire universe against me. And no, I’m not being melodramatic. It’s just been one long uphill slog this year, and one thing after another has gotten in the way of my writing. Lots of work, health issues, computer issues, you name it.  And just when I was beginning to hope that my computer would soon be fixed and I could get back to writing, I got an email from the publisher, moving up the deadline on my current translation from mid-January to a week before Christmas. And I’m not stupid, I understand when the Universe sends me such not-at-all-subtle signals. It’s telling me to NOT WRITE ANY MORE BOOKS THIS YEAR.

It’s telling me to finish this blog post, work hard on that translation all day and then watch TV aaaaaall night long.

Yup, I can take a hint.

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