Happy Thursday, fellow humans! For me it’s just another day I didn’t write. But something lured me to at least check out some of the writer’s I follow, and now I’m really glad I did. Thanks to Kristen Lamb’s post, Sending in the Flying Monkeys—Get Your @$$ to Work!, I’ve now got options! Because honestly I haven’t been able to write consistently, or even wanted to write, since we moved to a new state. Is this normal? Will I get my mojo back? Or is it simply me procrastinating because it’s the final book of the series and I feel overwhelmed with wrapping everything up with my characters?
These are the thoughts that have been plaguing me since I’ve gone through so many life changing events.
Let me back up a little bit. Roughly six months ago my husband and I began a monumental task, one that would hopefully change our lives for the better: we decided to move. I know what you’re thinking. “And? Everyone moves. So what?” I get that, I do.
But we really jumped off the deep end with this last minute decision. My husband received an opportunity in Nevada, and I know people who’ve never lived in California won’t understand why, but we were tired of Cali and wanted to try some place new. Did I mention that this decision was made in June?
So we began remodeling our home in the middle of frickin’ July! I mean what were we thinking? Everyone knows that your house should be on the market in spring/early summer right? Actually we were thinking there wasn’t much to do and we could finish in two weeks max and hit the end of the market. Since homes in our neighborhood were selling quickly and inventory was low, neither of us were too concerned. Our small remodel turned into a two-month project!
By the end of the house market season, my final edit was due on my second book. My husband had to go back and forth between California and Nevada for work. Plus we were going to Nevada every weekend looking for a new place. All of this while packing.
Is your head spinning yet? Mine was… and honestly still is.
Still I got my second book out in October, and our house listed as well. But the kind of work that goes into cleaning out a tri-level home with thirteen years of history is outrageous, seriously off the hook!
Again we didn’t know what we were getting into. We should have learned already: Whatever time you think it will take, times it by three. Because nothing ever goes as planned, not even pruning a frickin’ rose bush.
At least that’s been my experience.
Done and done. Then it was January. The house was still up for sell, and we’d moved into a two bed, two bath apartment and were getting used to the change. Did I mention we’re on the third floor? I’m still huffing and puffing from yesterday’s trip to the garbage. We were paying a rent and a mortgage, four utility bills, and really had no idea which way was up when it came to our driver’s licenses and car registrations. Should we register for Nevada or stay registered in California? I mean, we hadn’t sold the house yet so we were really only part-time Nevadans, right?
By the end of January, my husband and I caught the flu. He was out of work for a week with a daily temperature of 103. Blessed with asthma when I came into this world, I couldn’t breathe! Did I mention we are living on the third floor? With his fever and cough and my flu and bronchitis, we were completely screwed! Who was going to go get the cold medicine we were in such desperate need of? Neither of us could get past five steps without coughing up a lung!
Call me spoiled, but Safeway in California had delivery. Not so much here in Nevada. Could it get any worse? Why yes, yes indeed it could. We stayed sick for a month with a flu, then a cold, then bronchitis, and then—wait for it—walking pneumonia! Yay!
Can you see why I couldn’t even think about writing? My poor puppy, Bubba, who is a five-pound teacup poodle/Chihuahua mix also became ill and kept us up all night with diarrhea. The poor guy, it was the saddest thing I’ve ever seen! And as you get to know me, you will realize that I’ve really seen some horrible things in my life.
Then, on the first day that I was beginning to feel good enough to try and write, my laptop died. I mean gone, and I had never closed the book I’d been working on, Exalted, before I became ill. So it literally hadn’t been saved or put on my disc drive, nothing!
At that point I couldn’t do any writing until I could afford to get a laptop, which I couldn’t do until we got the house sold and closed.
It’s now the beginning of March, and it’s done and done.
Our house is sold, my body is beginning to recover, and I have a new laptop that I’m learning how to use. I’m trying really hard to get back into my story, but I just can’t seem to do it.
Is it the new atmosphere? All the stressful issues over the last six months? The fact that I didn’t continue writing anything daily? Or am I simply not meant to do this?
Can I get my groove back? Any ideas? I used to be a writing machine! Ideas just seemed to flow out of me all the time, and I couldn’t get them down quick enough. But now, it’s like getting air to my lungs with the bronchitis, almost impossible!
I need a revival.