I kind of fell off the face of things over the last week. Oh, granted I was on Twitter and Facebook, but that’s about all I had the strength for. It all started with a migraine last Sunday. I just couldn’t get it to die no matter what I did and blamed it on stress and pushed on. By mid-week, I realized I had the flu. Today’s the first day I’ve not had / kept an absolute pounding migraine. I still feel a little off to one side and tired, but that’s what flu does – and it takes a while to recuperate.
Meanwhile, Thomas comes with even more paperwork. Medicaid is still trying to say that they’re not Thomas’ primary insurer even though I called Medicare, Social Security, and Medicaid all three – twice – last week to get this straightened out. (I’m still angry that he lost his Medicare coverage; his disabilities aren’t going to go away!) SSI sent out a pile of paperwork that I received Saturday. I had a small panic attack when I saw it all. But it’s all pretty pat, and it’s stuff I could fill out in my sleep pretty much. I don’t even have to gather the documenting paperwork. Thomas signed a release form, and SSI will contact the medical professionals, etc, for the documents they need. Just pray for him that he doesn’t lose his SSI; if he does, he’s basically pretty well fucked.
And now for my conundrum.
I’ve been working on the rewrites of Midnight’s Heir for almost a year now. Submitting chapters here and there to my critique group. Making fixes. Taking out things. Adding other things. Rearranging things. Doing more research. Trying to get the blasted thing back together. I got the chapter about the school shooting back from the group some time ago and made a long list of notes and so on and so forth. I set all that aside and continued editing through the end of the book.
Now I have a printout for those edits, for book three (which has been skim-edited), and book five. And my mind is sitting here waging a battle with me about what I should be working on.
Just when I think I’ve gotten some ADHD symptoms under control, the Prozac has given me so much more energy than I’ve had before that other symptoms are going whoofuckingwhoo – partay!! I need to sit down and make a list of these things. Two lists – one of each.
I think part of the book problem is that my mind decided since the edits on Midnight’s Heir are technically finished, that I can just put it away and move forward. But I can’t do that. I have a pile of work to dig through. I have to finish up the research, get the edits tightened up, and get the whole mess retyped. And I think I’ll do that, but my mind will start in on, “You know you really want to work on those changes you thought of for book three!” And then Michael and Laurel will pipe up out of book five and be all, “What about us? Is our story chopped liver?”
So I get aggravated and dive into my Apex inbox and start reading submissions. Then I putter around the house and look for something to clean and clean it. Then I find a book to read and leave the editing and typing all piled on the coffee table.
It’s a vicious cycle, and I keep telling myself, “You have to choose to do something, and you need to choose to finish up book two before you go all insane and start in on book three again.” But myself doesn’t like hearing these things.
Lather, rinse, repeat.