So, I hate summer time. I know it sounds awful, but I do. It's so damned hot. Give me spring or fall, but keep your fucking summer. I don't want it.
I find myself very irritable lately, and with that comes this feel of dripping, nasty sarcasm in my writings. I don't like the tone, so I'm not getting very much done, production wise. Not many words get kept. I can't even manage to keep that tone out of a shared project between me and another writer. And it is completely unsuited for that particular work. So, little worth keeping in the last two - four weeks.
So, why am I irritable? I dunno. Worries, commitments [familial and otherwise], stress. It's nothing out of the norm. If you've followed my blog for a while, you might remember me talking about the long silences.
This is the long silence.
I've written only two or three new stories since The beginning of July, which isn't a lot for me. I'm usually more prolific. I've gotten some work done on the "Sister" project, but that's slow moving. Rewrites are, from what I hear.
Mostly though, it's my kids. It's not that they're bad kids, because they aren't. They're just normal kids. But they're home all the time and that means distractions. Distractions and writing don't mix well.
Especially those distractions that come in the form of: "Mom! Come and look, it's so frigging cool. I just chopped a snake in half and it's still trying to bite me! And there are baby ones crawling out of the bottom half. Bro, grab that shovel and kill those little fuc... uhh... I mean... boogers."
Oh yes, that happened.
Now, I'm a country kinda chick and have no problems with snakes if they are minding their own business. But my children and snakes that are still trying to bite? Oh but no. Nope, no way, not happening. I live 30 minutes from the nearest hospital. I'd have a dead kid if one of them got bitten by something like a copper head or a cotton mouth moccasin.
Anyhow, summer is moving along and trying to work itself to fall. I'll be ready for the cooler temperatures, and my kids are already ready to go back to school (although they would never admit it). They miss their friends that they don't get to see and what not.
Birthright: New Short Story Published
2 weeks ago
