29 days

This month is gonna be busy. 29 days left to turn this turd fire of a manuscript into gold, okay maybe silver or bronze, but still, something pretty.

I’ve struggled creatively since the 2016 election – I know I’m not alone here. *sympathetic fist bumps to all the writers*

Anxiety and depression reared their ugly heads again and again and again. I won’t go into specifics because ew no not today mthrfckr.

I did what I could to alleviate the daily numbing  horror.  I attended resistance rallies, spoke nearly daily with friends and family as we buoyed each other on days there seemed to no hope, canvassed for my candidates (who won!!!), and watched in tearful joy at the midterm results. The tide has turned, hasn’t it?


I’ve been dancing…and writing…again for the past few months. This one is fun and has become the unofficial song of this book. Go on, get up and dance you know you want to

Sigh. I love sexy times.

The fight isn’t over, I know. A cornered dog is dangerous as hell. This month though, that orange bag of shit and his complicit buddies are kicked out of my head and heart. No room. I’m on a deadline and intend to make it.  I’m coming out  swinging, not for the fences because come on, no. I’m shooting for base hits every day to win the game.

Ugh, I’m stopping with the baseball metaphor medley right freaking now. Yuck.

So anyhoo.

I’m gonna be busy; writing early before work, rewriting late after work. Holiday parties will go on without me. Shopping is online only because time is ticking. Christmas Day is reserved, naturally, for hanging with family and animals (and maybe sneaking a little editing). The only other exception will be if, hmm idk, news of a resignation or perhaps an indictment. On that day I shall be joyful and deliriously intoxicated. I’ve prepared my coworkers for this and they’re cool with it .

Deep breaths. Here we go.

29 days.