NaNoWriMo 2014 Day 11

Made it two out of five days this week Dark & Early so far.  This morning, I got the most words I’ve ever gotten that early:  over 1400.  It was all dialogue and went quickly.  In fact, I’ve been writing to that scene … for quite some time now.

The bottom fell out.  Of everything.

Maybe it’s because this story started as a 35K novella, but I’ve always thought of it as three separate parts, each with its own three-act structure.  Part 1:  Owned.  It even “ended” with a high point for the romance.  Part 2:  Betrayed.  Yeah, that doesn’t sound good, does it?  This is the opposite.  Everything is falling apart.  Charlie is actually gone, completely off page.  I know what he’s doing, but Ranay (and the reader, since it’s first person) doesn’t.  I just brought the story to the end of that section.

Now all of the plot that’s been so carefully hinted at and laid down from the beginning is suddenly tightening into the real weave of the story.  Part 3: Redeemed.  This next part is suspense, dark, and probably violent.  It’s also going to be gut wrenching because Ranay is alone.

She has to be alone to pull this off.

Part 2 is currently 28K, which is about where I was thinking.  I allowed 30K but I think I need to go back and add a scene, so that was a pretty good guess.

Part 3 will be fast and furious, maybe shorter.  We’ll see.  I think I still need at least 20K to make everything happen and wrap up all the threads.  Possibly as much as 30K but that’s pushing it.

I may not have enough story to hit 50K for NaNo, but that’s okay.  I just want to finish the book!!

NaNoWriMo count as of this morning:  20,117

Snippet:

“What are you hard limits?”

“I don’t have any.”  He arched a brow, so I rushed to clarify.  “At least not that I’ve ever found.”

I’d lived as a full-time slave for a year and had a breakdown when I had to leave.  How could I have any limit if I allowed myself to fall into such a black hole?  Staring up into his eyes, I felt like I was tottering on the edge of an endless chasm.  One step toward him and I would fall.  Hard.  People said they fell in love all the time, head over heels, like it was wonderful.  Sunshine and bunnies and floaty hearts weren’t in my repertoire.  When I fell, I crashed like a flaming meteor that wiped out an entire planet.

“Well, we’re going to start slowly.  You have limits, whether you think so or not.  And if you don’t…”  He narrowed his eyes slightly but the full force of his determination rocked me back on my heels as he set me back on my feet.  “Then I’ll help you develop and enforce them.  You need to learn to protect yourself, especially from men like me.”

NaNoWriMo 2014 Day 9

Weekends are crazy around here.  I had to be up at 6:30 Sat. to get Middle around for basketball practice.  Then Littlest had two basketball games that morning (different location).  That Man took her to her first game, I picked up Middle from practice, and then we all went to watch Littlest’s last game.  Papa came down to watch, so then we went out to lunch and I did some tech support on his laptop when we got home.

After getting up so early, I was exhausted early, so each word was a struggle.

Then yesterday, I took Princess and Littlest to church and watched the remainder of the Chiefs game.  After that, Middle took my laptop to continue working on her presentation, so I got Dropbox installed on That Man’s (my old backup) laptop so I could still work.  But naturally she needed my help, so I got a couple of hundred words at the most.  We spent the rest of the evening doing homework.  She had to get this presentation done since she’s got a tournament this week (her first games!) and she’ll have other homework all week to struggle to keep up with.

Unfortunately, she remembered she had math and science homework too.  At 10 PM.  Which I had to help her with and then check all her math work too.  Ugh.  So it was after 11 PM last night before I got to bed and I had hardly anything to show for words all day.  That late, I thought it’d be difficult to get up D&E this morning, but I actually woke up at 4 AM and then had a hard time going back to sleep until the alarm went off.

Miracle of miracles, I made over 1K this morning too, bringing my total to 15,975.  I’m still behind, but that’s a doable amount to make up.

As I said above, Middle has a tournament this week and it’s a 30-45 min drive away.  Wed. night she doesn’t play until almost 9 PM, so it’ll be late, lots of traveling, and somehow we have to get her homework done too.  D&E will be crucial even if I’m exhausted or I’ll never be able to keep up this week.

PLUS, I have first round edits on Billionaire #2 in my inbox, and line/final edits on Mama C are just around the corner.  Busy, busy, busy.

Snippet:

“Hear me now, Ranay.”

His voice made me shiver, all raw and barely leashed violence.  I’d never imagined he hid that kind of aggression behind his sweet dimples and curly hair, but I loved it.  Oh how I loved it.  He was my bad boy and my Master and my gentle lover all wrapped up into one tidy package.

“I never break my promises.  Never.  If you give yourself to me, I will treasure you.  If you feel weak, I’ll help make you strong.  If you have a need, I’ll meet it, whatever it is.  And if at any time I’m not good for you, then I will free you to protect you.  I won’t leave you high and dry, alone and afraid, but I refuse to tear down anything you’ve built for yourself.  If you need to be free, I’ll do it,” he said, his left hand rising up toward his right eye, “even if I have to take a bullet to the skull.”

NaNoWriMo 2014 Day 6

NaNoWriMoParticipant2014_zpsdddc8654

Graphic courtesy of Lynn Viehl.

I’m still grinding through that same BDSM scene (that just started to turn into a sex scene Dark & Early this morning).

Fun Fact:  I ought to go figure out my longest scene ever and then count the words in this one and see if I beat it.  There are scene breaks — to give the reader time to draw breath — but there’s no break in location or anything like that.  They’re still going at it.

I made it D&E every day this week!  Even this morning.  Fridays are hard and I usually want to sleep in, but NaNoWriMo doesn’t care whether it’s Friday or whether the monsters have basketball games/practices early tomorrow (they do).

Still lost my laptop awhile last night so Middle could continue working on her presentation, but she didn’t get home until after 7, so I had plenty of time to get work done first.  My eyes were pooped by then anyway.

2480 words yesterday, bringing my total to 11,330.

Snippet:

I waited for him to make some lame excuse or joke, to blow me off.  I’m damaged goods.  I should have known I couldn’t hide it from him for long.  Though I’d hoped I would at least have had a night or two to tie me over for the rest of my life.  I smiled at him wistfully.  “Is it okay if I still watch Sheba tonight?  Then I won’t bother you again.”

His face tightened into grim lines that melted the ice sealing off my heart and sent it thumping frantically.  He cupped my chin and squeezed hard enough I’d probably have red marks on my face.

God it felt good.  Too good.  I couldn’t imagine not ever having someone touch me like this again.  Who knew effortlessly what I needed before I could even voice it.

“You’d better bother me again.  It’s taken me a year to figure out how to get the truth out of you.  Don’t give up on me so quickly, Ranay.”

RT14

I made it to New Orleans for my third Romantic Times conference! My roomie, Ann Martin, and I had a blast touring around the Garden District and French Quarter today. We walked nearly five miles even though we also took the streetcar frequently (best $3 we spent all day).

The first place I wanted to visit was the Lafayette Cemetery. I was thinking Marie Laveau was buried there, but she’s actually in St Louis #1, so we crossed over there and then dropped down into the Quarter to have some beignets.

It was hot and humid – so bad I had to take a second shower before venturing out for dinner (and sunburned my shoulders since I forget sunscreen). Ann had a librarian event so I was on my own. I headed back to Daisy Duke’s since it was right across the street and familiar. Standing in the door waiting to be seated, I saw someone wave me over and ask if I was with RT. She invited me to eat with her party …. and then I realized she was Shiloh Walker! Talk about nice! We had a great dinner.

Now I’m already back to the room and trying not to dose off. I’m such a party animal! Even made a cup of crappy coffee but still can’t keep my eyes open.

Ann and I are planning to head to the Mississippi water front tomorrow morning since events don’t start until 10. Maybe we’ll hit Cafe DuMonde!

If you’d like to see pictures, head on over to Facebook. I posted a lot!

Sharon Cullen’s Pleasing the Pirate

Image Two hearts are wrenched between love and duty in Sharon Cullen’s tale of a ruthless pirate and the Scottish lass who fills him with desire for something greater than plunder.

With her clan’s crops burned and their property confiscated, Mairi McFadden is desperate to free her brother from imprisonment so that he can take his rightful place as chief. Her only hope is the fierce English pirate Phin Lockwood, but the buccaneer laughs at her meager funds. His roving eyes, however, tell Mairi there’s something else he’ll take in exchange for her brother’s rescue. Though she burns with hatred for the English, she’ll do anything to save her clan.

The crown has made it clear that Phin has two choices: bring in a certain Scottish traitor or hang. And he’s not about to let a tiny, whiskey-eyed woman get in his way, even if she is pointing a gun at him. When Phin learns that Mairi’s brother is the very man he seeks, he’s more than willing to use the lass as bait. But as the moment of capture draws near, Phin is surprised by his feelings for the courageous beauty who has him considering risking his life—for someone besides himself.

Excerpt:

The sound of large, booted feet made its way toward Captain Phin’s cabin, interrupting her thoughts. The steps were heavy, methodical, steady, moving ever closer. Mairi sat up. Her palms grew moist and her heart thundered. This had to be him. Even his footsteps sounded authoritative.

She jumped up and wiped her free hand on her skirts, wincing at the protestation of her stomach. Transferring the pistol, she wiped off her other hand, then raised the pistol with both hands, sighting down the barrel as her da taught her to do.

The door creaked open and Captain Phin stepped in. All six foot plus of him. He had to duck to clear the doorway and when he straightened, the top of his blond head nearly touched the ceiling.

He locked stormy gray eyes on her. He was wearing a dark blue waistcoat with gold epaulets at the shoulders and absolutely nothing beneath it except a very large expanse of sun-browned skin.

Oh my. She had to remind herself to breathe.

His breeches were tan in color and so tight she saw every muscle in his thighs ripple. Rugged, well-worn boots reached his knees.

Mairi tore her astonished gaze from his body to his face. This was not what she expected when she pictured Captain Phin Lockwood. She’d imagined an older man, face creased by years on the ocean. Bowlegged, bent at the shoulders, a dry voice and rheumy eyes.

This man’s shoulders were impossibly wide and his eyes . . . She swallowed. She’d never seen such beautiful gray eyes.

A dark brown brow was lifted in query, a sensuous mouth twisted in an ironic smile. He crossed his arms over his naked chest and spread his very non-bowlegged legs to accommodate the rocking of the ship.

“That pistol is as big as you are, little one.”

Oh, dear. That voice wasn’t dry at all. It was smooth as the whiskey her da had kept in his study.

~ * ~

sharon cullen 021Sharon Cullen is the author of the historical romance, The Notorious Lady Anne, Loving the Earl and Pleasing the Pirate. She’s also published in romantic suspense, paranormal romance and contemporary romance.

Her other job descriptions include chauffer, laundress, cook and mediator to her three very busy kids, her husband and two dogs. She lives in southwest Ohio with her brood although her dream is to someday retire to St. Maarten and live on the beach.

If you’d like to find out more about Sharon and her books, you can visit her website. She’s addicted to social networking so you can find her on Facebook and Twitter. Friend her! Like her! Follow her! She’d love to hang out with you and talk about her passion—books.

Amazon B&N Random House

Mama Connagher Day 8

The bad news:  I was going to post this last night, but I wasn’t feeling the best and I was too busy today.

Today (yesterday) was a take care of the wrists day.  My hands kept hurting throughout the morning, so I put on my wrists splints and worked in them all day.  They helped tremendously, though it did make me slower than usual.  I also feel a weird thing going on with my stomach tonight.

I didn’t want any coffee tonight.  I know, right?  I might be dying! [I’m still off my coffee, sob!]

The good news:  I finished the main draft!  I just have 2 more story-within-the-story scenes to figure out.  Then I’ll need to drag a few scenes around in Scrivener, compile, and see what kind of mess I made.

1947 words.  Mama’s overall word count is sitting at  52,088.  By the time I add a little more on the other thread, that should be around 55K, about what I was thinking.

Snippet:  this is a shorter excerpt – I’ve got to keep *some* secrets, laugh!  It’s a flashback scene with Jeb and Virginia and such a heartbreaker – though you don’t get it all here.  Poor Jeb!

“I still remember the first time I saw you.”  He didn’t sit down, but kept hold of her arm, standing in the shadow of the wall.  “I was in the first grade and you’d just started kindergarten.  We were outside at recess the first day of school and Bobby Wagner tried to cut in front of you in the line for the tallest slide.  I was surprised you got in that line.  Most of the little kids were too scared of it because it was twice as tall as the others, but that’s the first thing you headed for.  When you pushed him back, he knocked you down.  I ran toward you but before I could help, you stood up and smacked him in the mouth.  You said, ‘You got my dress dirty.  I hate this ugly thing but it’s Mama’s favorite.  If this stain doesn’t come out, I’m going to smack you again.’  And even though Bobby was three years older than you and could have beat the crap out of me, he hightailed it out of there lickity split.”

“Mrs. Baker came over to ask what had happened.  Why Bobby’s mouth was bloody.  And you said you’d hit him because he pushed me.  Why’d you lie for me?”

“You burst into tears.  I thought it was because you were afraid of getting in trouble, so I took the blame.  Later you told me it was because you were afraid Miss Belle would think you got the dress dirty on purpose because you hated it so much.”

Virginia laughed.  “Yeah, I hated to wear dresses.  She finally gave up and let me wear whatever I wanted after that.”

“We’ve been best friends ever since.”

Her smile slipped.  She still had her arm tucked in his and it felt so natural to drop her head against his shoulder and just look up at the sky.  The city lights muted most of the stars, but she could barely make out Orion’s Belt.  “Yeah.”

“You used to tell me everything.  If you were in trouble, you came to me.  If you needed help with homework, we did it together.  When Miss Belle upset you, you called me.  If you needed a ride, an ear to listen, anything.  Yet you’re suddenly engaged and I had no idea until my sister told me in passing.”

She turned and pressed her face against his arm.  “I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“You didn’t even tell me you were dating anyone.”

He said it softly, his voice echoing with regret and pain, not recrimination, but she still winced.  “We didn’t date, exactly.  One minute I was smacking him and the next we’re engaged.”

“Yeah,” he blew out a deep breath.  “Knowing you, I can see how that would happen.”  His voice became wistful and younger, like a kid asking for a bedtime story.  “I can see you love him.  I just didn’t expect it to happen.  Not like that. I thought…”  He sighed again and leaned back against the wall.  The movement drew her with him, shifting so she almost faced him.  “What about me, Ginny?”

She pulled back to look into his face.  Illuminated by the streetlight, he gave her a stricken look as if she’d just kicked a dog for no good reason.  “What about you?”

He raked his hand through his hair, tumbling it down over his forehead and roughing it up as if he’d been out on a bender all night.  “Yeah.  What about me.  I guess that says it all.”

Mama Connagher Day 3

I had this started last night but forgot to post before I went to bed.  I was trying to finish the first major sex scene but didn’t quite make it yet.

About 4600 words.  I’m not entirely sure because my computer shut down on me while we were out last night so I can’t remember exactly how many words Scrivener said I had.  I learned something else about Jeb last night and had to go back and drop a few hints elsewhere to set it up.  Plus sex scenes can really be tough to write.  Hopefully I can finish it up today, but I’m braced for a smaller word count as a result.  But yay, Virginia and Jeb are finally doing the deed!!

Continuing the flashback excerpt from yesterday:

God, for a man who’d only spoken to her a handful of times, he knew exactly what to say to get what he wanted.  What they both wanted, evidently, because she moved further into the room, shifting so she could get a better blow across his back with her right hand.  The first sharp crack made her flinch as hard as he did at the impact.  Tears filled her eyes and her throat ached like he’d wrapped his fist around her neck instead of his cock.  She almost dropped the crop, her fingers numb and cold.

“Don’t you dare stop,” he growled out.  “Give me another good one.  Just one more, Princess.  That’s all I’ll need.”

His head dropped back, his body arching, his hips surging forward.  His hand pumped harder, his face dark and taut.  She swallowed hard and brought the crop down again on his broad shoulder.  He let out a gut-wrenching sound, like she’d jammed her hand down his throat and grabbed a fist-full of his belly to drag back out.  Spasms shook his lean frame as he spent himself, pulse after pulse that left her trembling and aching as if she’d taken a nasty fall off her horse.  And the red marks on his back.  She wanted to sob at what she’d done even though he’d found pleasure in it.

His bracing arm bent, using his entire forearm and not just his hand, as if his strength had given out.  He dropped his head against his arm and drew a shaking breath.  “Come here, darlin’.”

He didn’t turn around or reach for her, which made her glad.  She didn’t want to see his face right now, nor him, hers.  It was too much.  Too intimate and personal.  Instead, she buried her face against the velvet heat of his back.

“Don’t cry.  Please don’t regret what you gave me.”

She didn’t realize she was crying, but he must have felt the wetness of her tears against his back.  She lifted her face and impatiently wiped her eyes, but the sight of the welts she’d given him made a fresh wave of tears flood her eyes and she couldn’t stifle the pitiful little cry.

“Ah, Princess.” He sighed and lifted away from the wall, pressing back against her.  “Let me wash up so I can hold you.”

Awkward and shy like she’d never felt in her entire life, she stepped back and watched as he washed and dried his hands.  At least he’d tucked himself back into his pants, though his jeans still hung loose and open about his hips, only staying up thanks to an old cracked leather belt.  He’d undone the buckle and loosened it a few notches, but it held enough to keep his pants up.  She couldn’t help but run her eyes over the lean lines of his body, even though she didn’t have to look in the mirror to know she was fire-engine red.  He had the body of a man who’d worked hard his entire life.  Not an ounce of fat or softness on that wiry frame, and so damned tall she’d get a crick in her neck every time she had to glare at him.  He had a surprising amount of scars, too.  Had he been in knife fights or something?  God, what kind of man was he, really?  She didn’t have any idea.

He caught her looking in the mirror and let out a low laugh.  “You’re thinking I look like I’ve been in a war or two?  You’d be right, as long as you’re assuming the thing I battled was a rodeo.”

“You got all those scars in rodeos?”

Nodding, he turned around to face her, leaning back on the sink as if he was trying to make himself less tall and possibly threatening in the enclosed space.  “Sure did.  Mostly bull riding, but I busted my left arm and three ribs last time I rode a bronc.”  He touched the torn up skin on the inside of his left forearm.  “Bone poked through.  It was a mess.  Took months to heal and it still pains me some.”

“That’s why…”  Her tongue quit working but he caught her meaning and smiled slightly.

“That’s why I had to end up bracing my whole arm against the wall, rather than my palm.  The pressure on the bone started to hurt too much for me to concentrate on the other hurt.  The good hurt.”  He kept his gaze steady on her face. “The hurt you gave me.”

A thousand questions jammed together in her brain, but she could only voice one.  “Why?”

He shrugged and dropped his gaze to his palms, studying his hands like he’d never seen them before.  They were broad and large, rough and torn and calloused from a lifetime of wrangling critters, fixing fence, shoveling manure, and whatever else the job required.  “I don’t rightly know.  I just know that I’ve only rarely ever been able to come like that.  You might not believe me given all the ladies chasing cowboys at the rodeos, but that wasn’t ever for me.  I couldn’t enjoy it, not like a normal man.  I always need some kind of pain, and to find a woman who can understand that need and help me with it…”  He sighed again and fisted his hands, pushing up to his full height.  Though he didn’t dare look back into her face.  “I can’t thank you enough but you ain’t for me, Princess.”

She didn’t understand the panic that roared through her.  Instead of crying like a virgin, now she wanted to wail like a banshee at the thought of him walking away, even though she still didn’t know him.  Don’t I, though?  Don’t I know him better than most women, if I was able to do for him what others couldn’t?  “What?  Why?”

“I’m a rodeo bum,” he said it hard, baldly, his teeth grinding on each word like he was chewing on rocks.  “You’re a Princess, the rich boss’s daughter who rides a horse worth more than everything I own in this world a hundred times over.  A thousand.”

“So?”

He laughed harshly and ran a hand through his sweaty hair.  It was odd to see him without his hat.  A permanent dent was worn into his dark hair from where the hat sat on his head.  He’d cropped his hair short with just a little fullness on the crown on his head, barely enough to even need a comb.  “So?  You said Colonel Healy would put a bullet in me for laying a hand on you.  What the hell is he going to do if he ever finds out what else we did?”

“That was different.”  Deliberately, she said it primly, which drew a snort from him.  “That was when I didn’t want you.  If I do want you, then Daddy couldn’t care less.”

Tyrell stilled, his sudden intensity searing her brain to ash.  “And do you want me?  Now?  Knowing what kind of man I am?”

Boldly, she ran her gaze over him from head to toe, taking in the narrowness of his hips and waist, the sagging jeans just barely keeping his modesty.  “Hmmm,” she hummed out as if deep in thought.  “Maybe.”

He growled and took a single step toward her before catching himself.  “Maybe?”

“Maybe,” she repeated.  “I’ll have to have another kiss or two to be sure.  Maybe more.”

“Then I guess you’ll just have to sample me again,” he drawled, his voice low and deep.  It did crazy things to her insides, melting them into a puddle. “Run me through my paces.  See if I have the staying power for a woman like you.  I promise you that I have the endurance and the heart to last until I my breath stills forever and they put me in the ground.”

She took his invitation, stepping close enough to feel the heat rising of his body like a furnace.  He smelled like leather, butter soft and fine.  Funny how his boots were dried and caked in muck, his belt cracked, but she’d never seen a better cared for saddle and bridle than when he rode by.  She’d taken to asking him to polish her tack because no one else could get the same shine.  Not even her.  “A woman like me?”

“Most of the time, you’re going to take what you want and pity the fool who don’t get out of your way fast enough.  Other times, though, you want someone to reach out and risk everything he has just to feel the softness of your skin and smell the sweetness of your hair.  Even though it’ll rile you up and you’ll lay into him like an angry polecat.  Luckily that’s exactly what I want.”

Holding her breath, she laid her head on his chest.  His arms came around her, cocooning her in his strength and warmth.  With a shudder, she let out a sigh and relaxed into his embrace, letting him hold her as he’d promised.  He didn’t press the advantage, sensing her need for comfort and reassurance.  That he’d no more hate her for hurting him than she could hate him for needing it.

 

Giveaway: Lord Regret’s Price

LordRegretsPrice72webHappy birthday, Lord Regret!  To celebrate Lord Regret’s Price’s release from Samhain, I’m offering several prizes, including:

A free electronic copy (any format) of Lord Regret’s Price

A free electronic copy (any format) of Lady Doctor Wyre (book 1, if you need it)

A custom Her Grace’s Stable make-up size bag created by Haut Totes filled with pens, bookmarks, etc.

Winner’s choice $25 gift certificate to any online ebook retailer (Amazon, B&N, etc.).

I’ll ship the bag anywhere on the planet and you can comment on this blog post as many times as you’d like.  BONUS: Post a comment on this blog post with any online review or rating you post for an extra entry.

Just enter using Rafflecopter below!

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NaNoWriMo 2013 Day 1

I love to take Nov. 1st off when it’s a weekday so I can stay up until midnight 10/31 and hit the ground running!  Unfortunately this year I was so tired that by the time midnight rolled around I could hardly string two words together.  I did manage 576 but then called it a night.  The words were slow going and it was going to be after 1 AM before I got enough to call it quits, and I had to get the monsters up for school this morning (wakeup call at 6 AM).

Once I got everyone off to work and school, I had a lazy few hours.  It was nice to sit and drink coffee in silence while dinking around with email, Twitter, and TV.  At least I didn’t turn on Netflix (my ultimate time sink) but I enjoyed watching Ancient Aliens.  Finally about 9 or so I turned off the TV, shut down internet, and got to work.

It was still slow.  I’d write a bit and pause, check my word count.  300 words.  Sigh.  But I did finally break 1K and stopped for lunch.

This year, I’m going to try and walk every day, weather permitting.  KoKo needs the work (long story, I’ll try to write up a blog post later) and I don’t want to totally chain myself to the computer.  I’ve been stressed out lately and I need the exercise!  So I walked around the neighborhood a little over 30 mins with the pup and came back just in time to write another 30 mins or so before the first two monsters got home from school (early day out on Friday).  That brought my total to 2025 words for the day.

I ended up taking the rest of the night off.  I’m mentally still a little out of the game so I don’t want to strain too hard yet.  I was hoping for 5K but I’ll take what I got and hope for the best tomorrow.

Battling the Bulge, Round 399

Okay, maybe not exactly that many rounds/attempts, but this is an endless battle I wage.  Since RT in May, I’ve had a super hard time getting back to consistent WW tracking.  I’d start out well and track through lunch, but then fall off the tracks at dinner.  Or I’d totally forget to track for a few days at all.  Stop and start.  It’s annoying and unfortunate, because if I’m not tracking… I’m gaining.

Then I don’t want to know how bad it really is.  I’m an avoider.  Which doesn’t help the issue either.

Plus my knee has been giving me trouble off and on this year.  It’s never completely recovered from getting hyperextended, though most days it’s feeling better now.  I need to get it stronger…by exercising!

Stress at the Evil Day Job has been off the charts all year.  If it’s not a project deadline, it’s dealing with support calls or new bosses.  I’m a stress eater (chips, popcorn, pizza because I’m working late), so that’s been something that really hurt me this year.

But where I’ve failed 398 other times (or more), this time, I stopped the slide.

How?  As I lost, I got rid of ALL of my clothes that no longer fit.  So when my favorite looser jeans got uncomfortably tight…I had no choice but to suck it up, step on the scale and get busy doing what I know I need to do.  I didn’t have any “fat” pants to pull out of the drawer and I sure as hell wasn’t going to go buy something new in a larger size.

The damage:  30 lbs.  *dies*  Normal people do not lose and gain 30 lbs in a year. They just don’t.  It’s going to take me forever to lose again.  I don’t know why I can’t get it together every day, all year, and keep it off.  It scares me that even if I get to goal, it’ll be a constant struggle to STAY there.

But on the bright side, I’ve stopped the slide THIS TIME. I’ve put together 2 solid weeks of tracking.  I’m concentrating on whole foods and eating sensibly.  So while it might take a while to undo the damage, I’m not damaging my metabolism or heath by going on some crazy crash plan that I can’t stick with.

(That Man’s doing a weight loss challenge at work, and his current diet is an apple, two plums, and a salad for dinner with about 500 calories of bottled dressing.  Yeah.)

Slow and steady and healthy.  I know what I need to do.  I just have to do it.

The battle continues.