Writing Day Three

Well, if you read yesterdays blog, then you’ll be more than aware I was dealing with a migraine.

I was still dealing with it this morning. Until this year, I’ve never had migraines last for more than twenty-four hours. I’m wondering what fairy I inadvertently killed without knowing it. Having a migraine for longer than twenty-four hours is not a picnic that I’d give to my worst enemy.

So, much like yesterday, today will also not be a writing day. Which kills me. I had so many fab things I wanted to write yesterday until that headache hit the ‘beyond belief epic’ stratoshere.

I may go in and dabble, but that’s all it will be.

In an aside, I did dream that I was metaphysically trying to save two of Harry Potters friends who were unaware that they were about to be attacked by a zombie-witch (I know, right?), but I couldn’t remember the word for removing them to safety. The only one I could remember, was defenestrate, and I knew that wasn’t right. So I screamed out to Harry, and just kept screaming out his name. Who knows if he answered the call. Did I mention it was a weird dream?

Happy Birthday Girlfriend

Today is my bestie’s birthday. It’s a day that she really doesn’t like. Why? Because her phone rings off the hook and she cannot get anything done.

For most of us, when it’s our birthday, we get congratulatory wishes via parcel post, Facebook, Twitter and the odd card in the mail.  Then, there’s either a meal somewhere at a local restaurant, or a barbecue at home with friends and family.

Unfortunately for my friend, she moved away and lives in a small town in WhoopWhoop* hence the gazillion phone calls.

So I do the usual thing on her birthday. I call her home phone. That rings out. I call her cell. That too rings out. So I send a text.

That’s just sucky. I think I’ll hit Amazon a little later and see if there’s something on there that I can send her that will cheer her up. Sure, it won’t arrive today. But as friends we’re cool like that. It’s not about the gift. It’s about the message it conveys.

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*Not a real place. Australian slang for ‘the middle of nowhere’.

Writing Day Two

In the wee hours…

It was dark, and I awoke with my head in my hands. Head throbbing in the way that makes the world around you cease to exist. I slept again.

Once again with my head in my hands, it was still dark. This went on for awhile. Then I realised, migraine.

Groaning, I rolled over and reached for the open top drawer of my bedside table. Hand pawing everything closest too me, hoping for the touch of encapsulated tablets and the sound that the little crinkly open flaps make when you touch them, heart slowly sinking as I think of the long walk out to the kitchen cabinet. That walk in the dark that would be painful to take.

Surprised when my direst thoughts were interupted by the crinkly sound that I’d given up on, entered my dull brain-pan. Popping two into my hand, I reached for the ever present water bottle, and took only enough to get the tablets down my gullet.

Falling back on the bed, I willed myself to go back to sleep. Willed the tablets to kick-in, ‘please, oh please.’

Wanting desperately to make myself more comfortable, but unwilling to move.

What felt like hours later, I fell back to sleep.

Awake once again, my head thumping, just not as bad as last night. I realise, there’s not much hope for writing today. So I make some notes, and pop on here because, once started, I want to continue.

Here’s yesterdays progress.

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Writing

I read a short burst on Instagram this morning. On writing.

Basically, this author recommended, that to get the creative brain functioning and prepped for writing on her wip each day, she would first write something else. Anything else.

It sounded like good advice. Take the edges off as it were. I kept sailing through Instagram and the thoughts were still burbling at the back of my subconscious.

Eventually, I thought, dang it. I’m going to try that out. So here I sit, writing absolutely nothing of import, just getting the writing side of my brain functioning.

I’d like to attribute this post to her. Sadly, apart from hitting the little heart at the bottom of her post, I didn’t make a note of who said it. I went back and scrolled through, trying to locate it…when I saw a gorgeous cat photo – said cat was sitting on a park bench on what looked to be a foggy morning, wrapped up in a cape and marked #JediCat or something similar. As soon as I hit the heart at the bottom of that photo? I realised that I was about to fall back into the never ending hole that we all know and love to lose time too.

Swiftly, I shut Instagram down.

Made a coffee – Mocha of course, toasted a couple of crumpets – one lemon butter, the other breakfast marmalade, and hot-footed it down to my writing cave.

So yes – lady author, whoever you are, thank you for your advice. I’m taking it.

#FirstMorning #AmWriting #WritersLife

Thanks to the Universe

As the fire is puffing and growling its way through the wood, banked safely in its ring of stalwart rocks, the staccato voice of many frogs roll like waves in the background. The sound too-ing and fro-ing along the creek as the frogs each call out to their mates. Almost challenging the sound of the crackle and snap of the wood, as it slowly gives in to the flames.

The warmth of those flames heat my bare face, as the wind chill tickles the back of my neck – trying desperately to find a way in.

Yet still, it’s a peaceful night.

The glory of the milky-way above, shouts loudly into the silence of the dark night, daring all who look up, to deny if they can, that there is beauty to be had everywhere. You just need to look.

Peace steals through my heart and settles my soul, even as the chill of the autumn night bites at my ankles.

A car purrs down a road somewhere in the distance. It’s so far away that the sound it makes is negligible.

I take a deep breath.

In.

Holding it for five seconds and then release.

The crisp night air fills my lungs and as I release it, my mind becomes unburdened with all of life’s current concerns.

I send a grateful thanks out into the universe, for all the joy and companionship today has brought me.

Trixie Vardon

Continue reading

So, new beginnings…

Book one has been close to being finished so many times. Then the other day it hit me, if my two leads changed sexes, then it would be so much better!

It would, I know it would. The whole book would be so much better. Yet I’m not going to do it.

I’ve realised that if I keep amending and tweaking this book, then the rest of the series will never be written, let alone published. So, regardless of my latest brainwave, I’m going to hit that published button soon.

I’m in the process of doing preliminary edits. Then it’s off to the editor, and then the hunt for beta readers and building my mailing list will begin with a ferver.

So, wish me luck, and watch this space. I’ll be updating my process as I go, because, lets face it, you only release your first book once.

Hugs and kisses, Trixie.

New beginnings

So, Husbutt, darling man that he is, has been keeping secrets.

Even more exciting, he's been keeping secrets from me!

I know right? I'm all freaked out because this is something he never does. Well, he never does successfully. Husbutt has the ability to give everything away with a word or a look. He's kind of transparent when it comes to secrets.

So, imagine my surprise when he hands me enough cash to buy, not only an iPad Pro, but an Apple Pencil and the keyboard to go with.

Shut. Up.

I wish he'd taken a photo of my face at the time. I can well imagine the look on my dial. You can be pretty certain it would have been a cross between disbelief and shock. Apart from the standard 'thank you hunny', and the proverbial 'the words thank you just don't seem to be sufficient at this time' – and I assure you, those were the words I said verbatim. Followed pretty closely by, 'I don't know how to process this, I really don't. I also don't seem to be able to find words. Where have all my words gone?" Which was a purely rhetorical question, as I'm fairly sure I didn't expect an answer. Most probably because any answer would have been to much information for my poor, by now, well fried brain to process.

Suffice to say, I'm sitting here in bed, after having played on the iPad solidly for the last 48 hours – yes, okay. There was some sleep in there somewhere, just don't ask how long for or when, as it is another question that will go wanting. Yet this is the first thing that I can type.

I've played.

I've scrutinised.

The App Store has been well and truly plundered.

Colouring is now my new thing.

I still have to login to my two fave games for some playtime.

Yet, I don't care about any of it so long as I can do more stuffing around on my iPad Pro.

Did I mention that it's nearly thirteen inches? Yep. I'm one happy camper. Mwah ahaha ha. Oh, and by the way, the colouring thingy? I never said I was good at it, just that it's my new thang! LOL.