Just as I set out to write this post, I got a phone call that wiped out every skerrick of my attention and interest in writing it.
It looks like my husband will be forced to take three or more weeks off work to recover from long term effects from a traffic accident he was involved in late last year.
That means I’ll be the sole bread winner, for who knows how long.
That’s fucking scary.
It’s also what I call a life-roll — a term I’ve stolen from Kristine Kathryn Rusch and Dean Wesley Smith.
Fact is, these things happen.
So, for a few minutes I’ll force myself to focus on the now-mundane report of last week’s efforts, then come back and re-address this life-roll.
Like last week, this week I have no word counts to report.
I took the few “spare” days of work to finish the concept on the new thriller series, then got on with plotting the next book on my production schedule, a new addition to a popular historical romance series I’m writing.
Now I’m back to writing “normal” stuff during the day, my spare time goes back to the thrillers…only I’m not sure about that, anymore.
I’ve kept the log purposefully short. Frankly, it seems rather irrelevent right now.
Which is shoddy thinking, because details like this become even more important when the crunch is on. Habits and routine become critical backbones upon which life can cling and return to normal as soon as possible.
So I must force myself to deal with the trivial.
But for now, the life-roll.
Fact is, I’m going to have to go to the mattresses. Not to gain time, but to boost cash flow and preserve cash.
I’m not sure how this will work, or what I’m going to do right now to pull that off. I’ll have to brainstorm and see what is possible. Next week I’m sure I will be able to give you much more detail.
I do know that my spare time, that is ear-marked for writing the thrillers, may get hijacked in favour of quick money-earning activities.
…back to work, all of us.