That’s me. I’m not cranky, just tired. (Thank god I’m not also cranky — what a mess that would be for everyone around me!) I’m wondering if it’s worth it to write a blog post, because I won’t have much of a point. No inspiration or advice, no grand stories. Just me, tired. I guess that’s a mini-story. A behind-the-scenes look at a writer’s life …
After all the socializing over Thanksgiving, I spent Saturday through Tuesday on the Oregon coast with Luna the One-Eyed Wonder Dog. She’s my mascot when I go away for writer retreats. I’m revising the second in the County Clare mystery series, and while I was away, I spent most of my days battling my way through a plot snarl that had been driving me crazy for months. Here’s what the fix required:
1. Revamping several key setup scenes earlier in the novel.
2. Merging two chapters and cutting a load of extra shite out.
3. Switching out one character for another in the new chapter.
4. Reorganizing the scene flow leading up to and just past the new chapter.
Sounds pretty simple when it’s listed out like that, but the sheer amount of analytical thinking power it took to come up with a solution just about made my brain explode. Thinking is hard work. Makes me tired every time.
So then, I get back Tuesday afternoon just in time to get totally stressed out about my first big author reading Event (capital E, yes) that very evening. I’m no public speaker, so, yes, I was twitchy. I mentioned this event, Noir at the Bar, previously — right here — so I won’t rehash it except to say it was kind of a big deal. Me, the fresh meat, the girl with the debut novel, within a lineup of well-established very male writers (very male in subject matter … although, come to think of it, the testosterone levels were pretty damned high anyhow).
I was proud of myself for embracing the opportunity. You can read more about it HERE. It was a blast of an evening that’s for sure.
So that was Tuesday night, in which I stayed out too late and drank one drink too many … Day job yesterday, Wednesday, yawn, before meeting up with a writer friend for drinks last night. I tagged along with her on a novel research jaunt into Portland’s underground tunnels — the Shanghai tunnels — where the opium trade, human trafficking, and shanghaiing were the order of the day. Fascinating stuff, but, man, the cruelty we humans get up in the pursuit of money. It continues to blow my mind.
Now, today, Thursday, tired. Classic introvert, eh?
Can I come up with a bit of inspiration or advice to pass on to you, dear readers? <yawn>
Just this: Take naps. They’re good for you.