Guess Who’s Talking Now

That was unexpected.

I’ve been working on two things back and forth:  Charlie and the PNR.  I’ve had some important realizations on both, but I haven’t really been getting very many words.  I’d like to run the PNR by my editor soon to get a feel for whether she likes it or not, and while I really love some things… other things were a little too stiff and not quite right.  Those kind of changes are hard to make, but I’ve been chiseling away all month.

Out of the blue today while I was working for the Evil Day Job, a new voice popped into my head.  Okay, not really a *new* voice, but not one I was expecting to hear for awhile (story wise at least – I really didn’t expect to hear at all from this particular character, but what he said makes sense).  It was Elias, from Yours to Take.

He was having a heart-to-heart.  With Mal, the Mistress of Dallas.  It seems that Colby is running into a bit of trouble.  Elias was trying to “warn” her, but knowing Mal, it really just turned her on.  Ha.

Anyway, a nice 750 words over my lunch on a story that’s coming soon but not for awhile yet.  I really need to get the next billionaire story done before Mal and Colby get into full swing, but hey, if they’re talking…

I’m writing it down.

Working on the Inaugural Newsletter

In case you didn’t notice, I added a newsletter a few months ago, but haven’t done anything with it.  Partly from just being so busy lately – but also because I’ve never done this before and I didn’t know how to begin.  I don’t participate in a ton of author newsletters, so I don’t really know what to include.  Did I really have hours to invest in figuring out how to work in Mail Chimp, the templates, etc.?

So I decided for this first newsletter, I’ll just give away books.  :mrgreen:

If any of you have recommendations of things I should include, let me know!  I’ll definitely appreciate the ideas.

If you’ve signed up, I’ll plan to send out the first campaign this Friday.

End of January Summary

BillionaireSubmissive-The72webFirst things first – the pretty new cover for THE BILLIONAIRE SUBMISSIVE!  The official blurb is also here.  Coming from Samhain June 2014.

What do you think?  We deliberately went with something new – specifically no people on the cover.

I haven’t broken the chain yet – writing every single day in January.  The only “qualification” to that is the work I did yesterday was reading through print galleys for Lord Regret’s Price.  They were due and it’s business – just not new words.

41,121 words in January, so 2014’s off to a good start.  Finished a book and submitted it.  Edits will be coming soon on The Billionaire Submissive.  I’m plotting another contemporary idea I had, possibly a Christmas/holiday theme.  Then it’s back to the PNR.  I also have two more billionaire stories in the works.  Just gotta keep on truckin’!

Mama Connagher Day 4

Slowed by finishing a sex scene–and the KC Chiefs playoff game, sobs–I only managed 1363 words today.  But I finished the major sex scene AND killed Ty.  *sobs some more*

Yes, Ty was adamant that I had to write a brief scene leading up to his death.  Now whether this ends up in the final version or not, I don’t know.  But I had to look at it for the sake of Story.

Completing the flashback excerpt:

“Are you spoken for? Promised to anyone?”

She didn’t lift her head.  Should she tell him about Jebadiah?  But why?  So she’d known him her whole life.  So the whole town assumed they were a couple.  The man had never kissed her.  Never held her like this.  Even the few times they’d been alone, nothing had happened.  Which is probably why Daddy trusted the young man to escort me.  She pushed the twinge of guilt away.  “Why?”

“Just figuring out who I need to wrangle for the right to court you properly.”

“Nobody but Daddy and I’ll take care of him.”

“No, you won’t.  That’s my job.”

She tipped her head back so she could see if he was just joking, but his face was solemn.  “You’re serious?  You’re going to talk to Daddy and tell him…what?”

“That I’m done with rodeos for good.  That I’ll do any job he wants as long as he lets me stay on.  That I love you with all my heart and soul and I’ll do anything to make you happy.  I’ll work night and day until I can provide what you want.”

Her heart soared, even though it was crazy.  He couldn’t possibly love her already.  Could he?  Could she love him?  Sure, she’d kissed him.  She’d done more with him than she’d ever done with any man in her entire life.  But…  “Daddy—”

“Nope,” he cut in.  “I’d have to be an idiot not to know your Daddy’s loaded with this fine ranch sprawling out in all directions as far as I’d care to ride.  I won’t take a dime of his money.  You tell me what you want and I’ll get it, and I won’t marry you until I have it.”

“I want you.”  It surprised her, but as soon as she said it, she knew it was the truth.  No one else had the courage to step up and risk her fury—and her parents’—to  find out what kind of man she wanted.  And now she knew that the kind of man she wanted was standing right here.

“And?  What else?”  He insisted, though he tightened his arms around her.  “What will make you happy?  What’s your dream?  Not your Daddy’s dream, not your pretty movie star mother’s.  What’s yours?”

She didn’t have to think about it.  “I want enough land to raise and train my own show horses.  A barn and corral.  Enough equipment to travel properly to the shows until I make a big enough name that people will come find me instead.”


“Nowhere but Texas.”

“You got it.”  He pulled away and reached for his hat and shirt tossed in the corner, as if he were going to go out right now in the middle of the night and start looking for that land they’d make their own.  But she dug her fingers into his waist hard enough he turned back and looked down into her face, eyes narrowed.

“Didn’t you forget something?”

A slow smile softened the hard lines of his face.  “Yes’m, I imagine I did.”

One of those big, broad palms cupped the back of her head and he bent down to kiss her once more.  She pressed up against him, rising up on her tiptoes to get as much of him as she could.  Assured of her choice, he let his hands roam up and down her back.  He molded the curve of her hips, the dip of her waist, and finally, at last, he cupped her breasts in both hands.  His thumbs rubbed her nipples through her shirt and the ache she’d felt watching him earlier came back a thousand fold, spreading fiery heat all through her veins.

When he lifted his head, she moaned.  The knowing twinkle in his eyes made her want to punch him.

“I’d be pleased and honored to return the favor if your folks are going to be gone awhile.”

As if Miss Belle had picked up on the disturbance and threat to her daughter’s virginity, the sound of a car pulling up the driveway made Virginia moan louder.

With a laugh, Tyrell released her and grabbed his shirt, tugging it quickly over his head so he could fasten his jeans.  “That’s what I was afraid of.  I might as well go speak to Colonel Healy now.”

For a moment, she actually felt a sliver of dread stab through her, worried that her proud, hard father might reject her suitor.  “Now?”

“No time like the present.  Don’t you worry none, Princess.”  Tyrell jammed his hat on his head and took her hand firmly in his.  “I know exactly what to say.  I won’t let you down.  I’ll never let you down.”

She didn’t want to admit to worry.  Or fear.  Or that she just might burst into tears if Daddy refused them.  Or if she woke up the next morning and Tyrell’s rusted out truck was long gone.  Instead of voicing her fears, all she said was, “Your mustache tickles.”

Without pausing a step, he threw open the barn door and dragged her toward the house where her parents waited on the front steps.  “Want me to shave it off?”

“Don’t you dare.”

Mama Connagher Countdown Day 2

I have a title!!

The theme song is soooo damned important.  I swear, sometimes I can’t get anywhere with a book until I know what the theme song is.  The playlist so far had included Seven Spanish Angels by Willie Nelson and Ray Charles, Before the Next Teardrop Falls by Freddie Fender, and Desperado by the Eagles.  All good songs, all having something key to do with the story.

But it wasn’t *quite* enough.  Until I found Lady Down On Love by Alabama.  Ahhh, yes.  That was key.  Because now I have the title.

I needed something with You, I, Me, etc. in it to coordinate with the other Connagher titles.  I thought about some form of Dare Me, I Dare You, etc. because that does play a part (you’ll see that in this next excerpt), but all the good twists of that idea have already been done.

Finally, I settled on Never Let You Down.  I tweaked the opening scene to better reflect that line, and now I’m able to carry the theme forward.  *happy sigh*  I also figured Ty’s static trait and how I was going to use it as a message from beyond.  I knew he did *something* to signal his approval, but I had no idea what, exactly, until today.  How some of this works out is just magical.  I swear it’s not deliberate on my part!

It’s been a crazy, crazy night.  My wrists and eyes are killing me and I practically skipped dinner so I could write (thank God for leftovers).  I slept horribly last night because I kept writing scenes in my head, and today I used every spare moment I had to capture those ideas before they disappeared.  I laid down a rough sketch for the final Act’s plot too, but again, it’s rough.  There are many more scenes underneath that I’m still going to have to figure out.

I’m trying not to stress out too much about the structure yet, trusting in the magic and my gut to help me weave it all together.  I have a bunch of flashbacks written.  I have a bunch of story-within-the-story scenes written.  Where they go, exactly, I have no idea.  It’s the flow of those separate stories that matter.  I feel like I’m at the midway or even slightly behind almost two-thirds, but Virginia still hasn’t done the deed with Jeb.  So that’s a little worrying.  But again, I’m just trusting in the story.  They’ll take me where I need to go, and then once I finish it, I can make it all work even better.  I’ll see everything more clearly.

7668 words for the day and I’m honestly not ready to stop yet, even though my wrists say I should.  We’ll see.

Continuing the flashback scene from yesterday:

She didn’t pause, couldn’t hear his response if he had one, not over the thundering of her pulse. The stable door slammed behind her and she broke into a run. She wasn’t even sure what she was running from. Him? All he’d done was kiss her. Safely away, she could admit that he hadn’t hurt her. The misguided fool had only been trying to protect her. Then she’d beaten him with her crop. Pausing on the wraparound porch, she ducked into the shadows and watched the stable door, but he didn’t attempt to follow. Panting, she leaned her back against the wall of the house and tried to gather her thoughts.

Why on earth had he kissed her? She’d barely talked to him. Sure, she’d noticed the bright blue of his eyes. She’d caught him staring at her from beneath the shadowed brim of his hat several times. They’d exchanged a few “good mornings” and pleasant smiles. She’d even tried to take a few bites out of his calm, silent demeanor but he hadn’t risen to the bait. That’s it. Certainly nothing like the years of polite social events she’d attended with Jebadiah. They’d danced together countless times, her hand in his, his other hand in the small of her back. But her pulse hadn’t ever hammered like this, her breathing coming fast and frantic. It hadn’t just been fear. The long lines of his body had been nice. Extremely nice. And his mouth. She’d dreamed about kissing and it’d never been like that. His mustache had poked her lips and tickled her nose and somehow she hadn’t cared one bit.

She caught herself absently stroking her fingers over her lips while she stared back at the stable. She wanted to go back and give him a piece of her mind. Maybe he’d try to steal another kiss. But was it safe? Perhaps she ought to wait until someone was around to hear her scream. Just in case.

Fool. The last thing she wanted was to end up hurt and possibly dead. For one thing, Miss Belle would never let her lie in her grave peacefully, but would harass her daughter until she herself passed just for having the audacity to die first.

Virginia dropped her hand to the door handle but froze. Dancer. She’d left him out of his stall. That sealed it. She had to make sure her prized jumper got put away safely. Head up, refusing to look left and right like she was scared of her own shadow, she marched back to the stable and opened the door without trying to be quiet. The aisle light was off and no horse seemed to be running around looking for a treat. Keeping her steps light and soft, she walked down to Dancer’s stall and found him settled back in for the night, his lead rope curled up neatly on the hook just as she would have left it if she’d been in her right mind. At least Tyrell had the good sense to care about the welfare of a horse. She’d give him that. But where had he gone? He could have gone out the back door, but that seemed a little cowardly for the man who boldly stood up to the boss’s only daughter just to make sure she didn’t break her neck riding her horse in the dark.

The light was on in the small lavatory at the rear of the stable, the door barely cracked. She’d never used it herself, for fear one of the hands would amble by and decide to test the door’s rusted lock. Creeping closer, she tried to see if he was in there. What he might be doing. She could see a shadow moving slightly through the crack, but not much else. He was in there, but what he was doing, she couldn’t say. Not without pushing the door open. She debated with herself as she drew close enough to put her hand on the door, but surely he wasn’t doing anything too private if he hadn’t bothered to shut and lock the door.

Then she heard a low, muffled sound. A cry, though she’d never heard a big strapping man make such a sound before. Could she have hurt him? Seriously? She’d thumped him in the head pretty hard.

Quietly, she pushed the door open further and froze.

Tyrell Connagher stood over the toilet, one hand braced on the wall as if he was using the facility. He’d taken off his shirt for some reason and the angry red welts she’d left on his back struck her to her core. Sucking in a deep breath, she opened her mouth to apologize when she finally noticed his jeans were jerked open. He ran his cock through his fist, the muscles in his forearm, biceps, and back flexing deliciously beneath the tanned planes of his lean body. She couldn’t look away. Didn’t want to look away. Until he spoke.

“I had to see the marks you left. Then I couldn’t stop.”

Trembling, she jerked her gaze up and away from her first tantalizing view of a man’s private parts. She met his gaze in the cracked, streaked mirror, sure she was blushing but unable to stop herself. A knot swelled on the side of his head, but the only thing burning in his eyes was hunger. Not pain. Certainly not delirium.

“If you’ll hit me again, Princess, then I’ll be able to finish quicker.”

He wanted her to hit him? Again?

Numbly, she glanced down at her left hand to find the crop still gripped in her white-knuckled fist. She was surprised she hadn’t dropped it in her frantic retreat. She looked back at his shoulder and tried to imagine striking him again, not in anger this time, not some mindless reaction to frustration at so many things in her life that she couldn’t control. But deliberately. At his request. She’d never hit another person like that. Sweat trickled down her spine, making her shiver, but her body blazed with heat. Embarrassment, yes, but something else. Something that made her transfer the crop to her right hand so she could lay a better blow on his back. If that’s what she decided to do.

She checked his face in the mirror again, half convinced he had to be yanking her chain. His blue eyes were darker like the midnight sky, the skin tight across his cheeks, his lips tight. No teasing. No. Rather, he looked like he was on the verge of something that would change their lives forever.

“I dare you, Princess. Hit me again.”

The Mama C Countdown

I’m in the hard push to finish this book.  I’m determined to have it finished, polished, and submitted by the end of this month.  Sooner if I can manage it!  So it’s balls to the walls.  I want 2014 to start out with a bang.

3055 words today.  It’s a good start.

To keep myself motivated, I’ll try to post little snippets as I go along.  I’ve only shared the first draft of the opening scene with you so far.  I mentioned that I was going to have to go back and explore Ty and Virginia’s relationship thirty years ago… so here’s the first part of how they got together.

First draft, subject to revision.

According to her fashionable mother, seventeen-year-old Virginia should have been interested in shopping and boys, not show horses.  But horses were her life.  She’d rather spend a whole day sweating in the ring with a stubborn horse than talk for five minutes with most of the humans of her acquaintance.

The recently hired tall, lanky handyman was one exception.  For one thing, he hardly ever spoke.  When he did, he revealed a surprisingly sharp wit that as often as not infuriated her even while she had to grudgingly admit he was exactly correct.   As far as she knew, he was only a few years older than her, but he’d had a hard life compared to hers of privilege and ease.  He’d roamed the country chasing rodeos, and when he ran out of money, he paused in some town and got a job, working just long enough to earn enough cash to put a little more gas in his old beat up Ford and haul his roping horse to the next dusty falling-down arena.

He’d been more than forthright with Colonel Healy when he’d taken this job, but Daddy had hired him anyway.  Virginia still couldn’t quite believe her hardcore by-the-book father had hired such a bum, but she had to grudgingly admit Tyrell Connagher did more than his fair share of work on the ranch and he never stuck his nose up at a job.

Even when she deliberately sent him to do something disgusting or petty, just to see if she could get a rise out of him.  Instead, he’d push his sweat-stained straw hat back on his head and look up at her with that leathered tanned face and say, “Yes’m.”  The last few times, she’d sworn there was a twinkle in his eyes.  Deep blue eyes the color of ocean on a perfect sunny day.

She pushed such a ridiculous thought away as she led Dancer out of his stall.  It was pitch dark outside and the ranch was silent.  Miss Belle and Daddy had gone out to some charity ball, both acting like it was the crime of the century for their only daughter to refuse to go.  When they knew she hated such fancy events.  All of the major families of the area would be there, the doctors and lawyers, the politicians.  Ugh.  All fake smiles and sparkling gowns and expensive perfumes while they plopped down a couple of thousand bucks for some charity none of them really cared about.

Then Miss Belle had dared say that Dr. Garrett’s son expected her to be there, like Jebadiah had bothered to ask her on a date or even spoken to her about the event.  Everyone assumed they were a “thing” when nothing could be further from the truth.  Before he’d left for college, everyone had kept checking her finger like they expected him to pop the question any day.  Now that he came home only for holidays, it was even worse.  Those snide smiles as if they knew he’d only come home to see her.

They weren’t even dating.  They’d never dated.  They’d just happened to attend a hundred charity balls over the years because the Healys and Garretts were friends.

Great, just great.  I’m engaged and the man’s never even asked me out.

She turned around and ran into a solid wall of muscle.  She jumped back with a squeak that made her blush, even while she tipped her chin up.  “Get out of my way.”

“Now hold on, Princess,” Tyrell drawled out.  “Surely you aren’t thinking about heading out in the middle of the night.”

Princess?  She couldn’t help but snort.  “What I do is none of your business.”

He pushed his hat back further on his head.  In the moonlight, his eyes were dark and intent on her face.  “It is my business when I know for a fact your folks are gone and most of the other hands have the night off.  So if you get lost or hurt out there in the dark, I’m the only one here to make sure you get what you need.”

His words made her shiver, as if he meant something else entirely.  She was suddenly aware of his size.  The fact that he was more hobo than respectable man, that he’d only been working for them a few weeks.  Nobody knew what kind of man he was, not really.  For all they knew, he was wanted in a dozen states for petty crimes.  Or worse.

And here I am alone with him.

Fear curdled in her stomach, which only served to piss her off.  She hated to be afraid.  When she’d stared at her first triple-pole jump and felt that sick pit in her stomach, she’d marched over to her horse and jumped it a dozen times until she’d conquered the fear.  She refused to ever let fear cripple her.  As Daddy always said, it was time to saddle up and ride on anyway.

Dancer snorted and pranced sideways, picking up on her anxiety.  He almost tugged the lead out of her hand, but she couldn’t spare a glance at him, not with this danger threatening her.  She clutched the crop in her left hand, glad she’d snagged it out of habit.  “I told you to get out of my way.”

“No’m.  I’m sorry but I can’t.”

Ignoring him, she led Dancer forward, planning to use the horse to push him out of the way, but he was on to her and stepped across the aisle, closer to her.  She started to turn, swinging Dancer his direction, but her horse was too polite to step on a human, even if the man might cause her harm.

His fingers closed around hers in a punishing grip, trying to yank Dancer’s rope free.

Panic flared but her anger burned hotter.  None of the help ever laid a hand on her.  They were too respectful—and too scared of her Marine father.  If she said boo, every man she’d ever met jumped.  Even Jebadiah Garrett, the boy she’d watched turn into a man who was too damned polite to even ask her on a date away from their parents.  Before she could stop to think, she brought the crop down in a sharp crack on Tyrell’s left shoulder.  “Get your filthy hands off me!”

Instead of letting her go, he clamped his hands on both of her shoulders and hauled her up against the long, lean lines of his body.  God, he was so tall, a tower of strength that sent her pulse hammering frantically.  She brought the crop down again, swinging awkwardly against his back, but he didn’t let her go.  In fact, he bent down and slanted his mouth over hers.

He was hungry, hard, his lips and mouth melting away the fear into something else that was wild and reckless and still pissed.  She swung her arm up toward his head, the crop handle clubbing him against his temple and knocking his hat off.  She wrenched out of his grip and stomped away.  “Pack your bags and be gone before Daddy gets home or he’ll shoot your rangy hide.”


I don’t want to jinx myself, but I think I’ve *finally* got Mama C fully cooperating!

I’ve been chipping away at her story all month, but it was slow going.  I had the general feeling that something was wrong, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.  I had all the players in place. I have the general plot in my head.  I’d reread the opening scenes and was pleased with them. But there was something missing.

Sometimes you’ve just got to talk out loud with people about a story, and so while we were at Granny’s for Christmas, I mentioned to my Beloved Sister that I was having problems but I didn’t know why.  I said the story wanted to be too many things.  It wanted flashbacks.  It wanted a story within a story.  It’s basically two romances in one.  No, three.  And it was just TOO MUCH.

In saying all that, I finally realized the problem.  It was me.  Snort.  Raise your hand if you’re surprised?

The problem was the tension in me fighting what the story wanted to be.  I *didn’t* want flashbacks.  I didn’t want to have to go back and write a bunch of scenes with Ty and Virginia twenty or thirty years ago.  I don’t have time!  I didn’t want to spend too much time fleshing out the story within the story.  Again, time!  The worldbuilding for that thing could get me in a heap of trouble in a hurry.  Thanks a lot, your deep dark secret identity sucks, Jeb!

But that’s exactly what I have to do, because that’s what the story wants.

And bingo, as soon as I sat down and wrote the first flashback scene with Ty, the magic was there.  It was like everything clicked.  All of the character motivations I’d been pretty sure of but not quite perfectly happy with suddenly slid perfectly into place.  That scene told me what I’d gotten wrong.  Jeb wasn’t best friends with Ty.  He couldn’t be.  He was Virginia’s best friend.  Ah.  Now that made things much more interesting and definitely made her conflict much more real and personal.

So I’m going to have flashbacks.  I’m going to have a story within the story.  I’m going to show her romance with Ty, even while the main romance with Jeb begins.  Because in the end, this is menage in a way.  Even though Ty is already gone.  And somehow I have to weave them all together into a tight, compelling story.  One story reveals the other story reveals the other.  It’ll definitely be a challenge.

Whew.  I definitely have my work cut out for me, but at last, the pieces are falling into place.  Now I just have to put it all together and finish the damned book!  It’s going to be like NaNoWriMo month around here but she’s finally cooking!

Now if I could only find the TITLE.

NaNoWriMo 2013 Day 4

Saturday morning, the two youngest monsters had their first non-Upward (more competitive) basketball game.  Ugh, to say it didn’t go well is an understatement.  We ended up spending at least an hour at the court later in the day practicing a few things just the four of us.  Then I took Princess and Littlest to my favorite coffee shop, Classic Rock, and we worked.

Two cappuccinos and about an hour and a half later, I had 1380 words.  Not bad considering I had two kids with me, but short of my daily goal.  I didn’t sweat it since I’d broken 2K the day before.

But then Sunday was almost a total bust.  I had the “I don’t wannas” and wasted away my day.  I knew I had Monday off, but I still had to get kids up for school.  Middle in particular wanted to get up at 5:30 am the next day, so I couldn’t stay up late.  I ended up scratching out a couple of hundred words but they weren’t good and it wasn’t pretty.

Monday morning I had to take Princess to school (late start on Mondays) and ran by Wal-Mart to pick up a few things. So I was late getting started and again, it wasn’t looking good.  I just couldn’t make myself focus.  I’d write 10 mins or so and then find myself looking up, wondering random things, opening up a web browser only to forget what I was going to go look at.

I made myself go down into my office.  I started up my aromatherapy diffuser, turned on my little space heater, put on my most inspiring NatureScapes music (drums and crows), and set a timer.  15 mins only.  I couldn’t do anything but write for 15 mins.  Then I stopped and got up, walked around, filled my water glass, etc.  Then another timer.  After I finally broke 1K for the day, I did a little exercise, ate lunch, and then met my friend Diana Castle in the Coyote Con chat rooms to do some more sprints.  Then I met Raelyn Barclay over her lunch (in Vegas, how cool!) via text and we did another sprint.  By then, I had several thousand words and it was time for me to pick up Princess from school (band practice).

I got one more later “sprint” in just me with the TV going in the background, to bring the day’s count to 4526 and my NaNo total to 8362.

If I can get another nice chunk of words today, I’ll be thrilled.  I need to check in at work and the kids are home today (voting day).  I also have to take Princess back to school today for All District tryouts.  Hopefully I can still get my words in!

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.


The best laid plans…

I allowed 9 days of vacation in November, concentrating on the beginning of the month to get as many words in as possible early, and then the entire week of Thanksgiving (since we host the family).  I was so excited to FINALLY have some time off…

Then I received word that a crucial person at the Evil Day Job for my current project gave her notice.  Her last days in the office are next Monday and Tuesday… when I’ll be out.  So I halfway committed to logging in at least a little those days to maximize the time I have left with her.  Not too bad though – I could still write in the mornings.

Then this week I got notice that they need me to travel to St. Paul home office for training.  The week of Nov. 18th.

Sigh.  I’m going to lose the entire week.

I can say I’m going to write that week, but I know how it’ll go.  I’ll be up super early (I’m not used to having to dress and put on makeup for work since I work from home) and I’ll be out late catching up with friends.  I won’t even have my lunch to write because I’ll be doing lunch with friends.  I’ll also be half brain dead because I’ll be frantically preparing training materials (I’m giving part of the training and I don’t have time to prepare the training until after a crucial milestone testing file for my project is done by 11/15).

Oh not to mention my story is only halfway plotted in my head (I was going to push hard to finish the PNR).

I am still going to try.  I love NaNoWriMo.  But it’s not going to be the perfect/fun month I was expecting.  What about you – are you joining the insanity this year?