It's embarrassing how long it's been since I've posted an update here. It's also alarming that it hasn't felt even a fraction of time has passed. This is likely partly due because I fell into a state where I felt intrinsically disassociated with everything, most frustrating of all - my writing too.

     There was the loss of my best friends mom that reawakened some feelings of my own grief for the loss of my own. Despite attempting to continue with improving hiring an editor, the state never really improved. Sure there were days peppered in that felt better than others, but the feeling never lasted.


​Soon, the anniversary of my moms passing came and went. Then the anniversary for the accident in Egypt. And of course Christmas, then my birthday. I became more and more emotionally detached. No emotional reaction in either direction to any of those events. Numb. Running on auto-pilot somewhere close to empty.

       The planning of the big trip earlier this year gave me something to focus on, a distraction. But the excitement wasn't at the level it should have been for embarking on a 5 week trip to Europe with my best friend. It wasn't until returning home from that non-stop whirlwind of a trip, where we traipsed through Paris-Italy-Austria-Ireland-Scotland-England, and falling almost immediately back into that disengaged state, that I knew that something wasn't right. I was in SCOTLAND for crying out loud, surely the residual excitement from finally setting foot on the 'mother land' should last longer than a couple days?

       During my next doctor's appointment, my doctor asked me how I had been, about how my P.T.S.D. symptoms were. This time, I was honest with him. There was no desire to do much of anything. I could pass a whole evening sitting on my couch in silence, without turning on a TV or computer, or tending to anything else. Just sitting, alone, until daylight faded forcing me to get up and turn a light on. Or the days I'd be struck with random tears - walking down the street, or in the mall. But not feeling emotions that would stir that physical reaction. The social butterfly I used to be, from cruise ship days, and event planner of various groups of friends back in the day - had disappeared. I essentially alienated myself.

       The worst in all of that, was that it actually PAINED me to not be writing. And yet, I couldn't bring myself to open a word document to get cracking. I didn't open Tumble Into Me since April 4th of last year - the day I sent it to the editor. It's like I stepped off the bus at the wrong spot and the world is just spinning by. I don't even think I read a complete novel in that time. So, unsurprisingly, my doctor put me back on medication for symptoms of PTSD and those similar to SAD. It's been about a month and I think things are getting a bit better. How can I tell? I have opened multiple WIPs and taken a gander, even dallied in a little editing. And I'm also back to reading. I take these all as mini triumphs. I still spend a lot of time alone. Despite invites to get out and socialized. I'll get there I hope. One day at a time. 
        
        I encourage anyone struggling with depression and/or P.T.S.D. to let your doctor help. Be honest to yourself, and about your symptoms. It's much harder to deal with them if you're hiding them. I was in denial, having been off medication for P.T.S.D. for 3-4 years, convincing myself that this too shall pass. A year and a half of coasting through life, barely participating IN life, meant I had to admit to myself that it wasn't passing. Not on my own anyway.  

      I'll post later this week about the recent writing related tasks I've been tackling. In the meantime, I'm going to curl up with a book. Cheers until next time, Amy.

I'm feeling so disinterested in life these days, which has equaled to next to no writing. 

I shouldn't be surprised with the current fibromyalgia flareup. It is always guaranteed after a period of high stress or sickness or even being unusually busy. I've had some stress on the home front, and don't seem to be waking rested, which is probably not helping my cause. It's possible that the extra low energy is contributing to my detachment with writing. I am finding it to *feel* like it's The Pursuit Of Nothingness. Seems I fell into this mood last year around this time (from past blogs). I want to keep to it, I do. I just find I love writing a little less, with each blow by bllow. 

My heart is also hurting for my best friend who lost her mom last week. I am so sad for her. She is just beginning the grief rollarcoaster ride I embarked on October 18, 2012. I find my mind drudging up memories of this heartbreaking experience of my own, while I dread that my friend has to go through these things as well. So much pain.
In the past three months so many people have passed away. I should correct that. So many PARENTS. It's such a difficult time for them, and I'm finding to be a bit of a tough one on me as well.

With a distracted mind, I find I'm not get anything that can be called progress on my WIPs. I have ideas that I jot down from time to time, or a spurt of a scene/chapter that I will sit and scrawl out. But everything is random, and all feels quite feeble in those brief attempts. 

The dreary cold weather could also be at play here. The endless greyness and dampness that settles deep within a heart and mind. I'm trying desperately to shake it off. Literally because I feel like I just can't get warm enough.

I find myself longing for the days when I worked on board a cruise ship. It literally was a blessed escape from reality. These days, with days filled with such bleakness, I want so badly to escape. But I know I can't, not really. And, in truth - I wouldn't leave my friend; I want to be there when she needs a shoulder. So that means I just have to work on altering my perspective and really hope to be successful at doing this. Because I miss the passion I felt for writing - back before I got all serious about becoming a published author. Writing for publication, is really not the same as just writing. It's way less grueling, for one. So, I think for this upcoming week - or as long as it takes - I'm just going to read. And keep reading, until the passion is reborn. 

One page at a time. As they say. 

Two weeks into January 2016 and I've received my first rejection of the year. 

They definitely aren't going down any easier. Just another Jagged Little Pill. The agent was very pleasant and thoughtful in her email, which is so very appreciated. Worlds better than the generic 'pass' reply, if we're lucky enough to get one of those. But I'd still take that over Eternal Silence which is both deafening and maddening. Did they even receive me query/sample chapter/full submission upon request? Or did it end up in junk mail, never to seen again? Was it so awful they can't quite muster up a polite decline? Just a number of the questions dancing in my head during the waiting game.
 
And although I am disheartened to receive another 'Thanks but no thanks,' I am pleased to have the agent refer to Tumble Into Me as a High-Concept premise. A small glimmer of good which I will try to cling to. It can always get better. Right? Well, if the statistics alone don't make a writer want to sit in a corner, rocking back and forth while mumbling incoherently, I don't know what will.




















​

But, tomorrow is another day. And all we can ever hope is to continue to improve ourselves and better our abilities. That's what I'll continue to do. Write. Edit. Delete. Learn. Write. Edit. Delete. Learn. And so it goes. 

For right now though, and over the next two months or so, I'm going to spend some time editing and completing two other stories that have been on the back burner. Maybe entice the muse with some new fresh story ideas, breathe life onto new pages, into new characters. 

In the nearer future, hopefully over the upcoming weekend, I'll need to decide if it's financially the best idea to attend National Romance Writer's Association Writer's Conference in San Diego this July. I *had* hoped I would have some good news by now (rookie mistake, clearly), which would warrant the expensive but important trip, especially for networking etc. As it is, I haven't 'leveled up' yet, and with the Canadian Dollar being so atrocious, adding more than 40% to the cost, it's making me reconsider RWAs as well as a Crew Reunion cruise in October. Perhaps, this year will be about staying close to home, reading, writing, regrouping, and save the bigger trips like RWA for another year; hopefully when I have some good news to share around. Or, you know, when I win the lottery.

That's it for me these days. How's your 2016 starting out?

So as the West Coast was winding down for the night, myself included. I was sitting in my living room when suddenly, my cat, who was sleeping on the window sill, scrambles/falls off of the sill and darts through the apartment. I'm looking around wondering what startled her, and looking in the direction Carly took off in, wondering what got into her when suddenly it hit me. It's not just someone stomping upstairs, or a semi-truck clamouring up Willingdon, NO. My livingroom is shaking. Holy shit. It's an earthquake! 
And as soon as that realization struck, it was over. I sat frozen, stunned, on my couch weighing weather or not I should get the heck out of here. Here being the ground floor/basement of a 40+year old house. Last thing I feel up to, is testing my personal durability beneath something like a ceiling caving in. And, moments later, with a half shrug, I took to Facebook to check in and see if it was just me (meaning: an ACTUAL earthquake), or not. 
Soon after I posted my exclamation about it, the posts were pouring in. Yes, West Coast had a 4.9 earthquake that struck about 45 kms beneath North Saanich on Vancouver Island. 
Thankfully from what I can gather, minimal to no damage or injuries.
On the West Coast, in high school and elementary school we not only do fire drills, but Earthquake drills as well. To prepare for the ever elusive yet extremely daunting 'The Big One.' The predicted 9.0 Earthquake we've been 'bracing for' for about two decades. Needless to say when something like tonight's occurs, it leaves us all a bit shaken up. ;)

For me, this one didn't affect me like the earthquake of 2001. I was standing on the skytrain platform at Joyce Skytrain station in Vancouver, which crossed over Joyce Street. While waiting for the train, I'm looking up the hill at the extreme swaying of the street lights, thinking to myself: it's not windy out...? And moments later the platform I was standing on lifted up and slammed back down. A rolling earthquake (which, I now can say, is quite different from the shaking, rumble...just like the teachers told us way back when!). Needless to say, everyone froze. There was nothing to hold on to. No one was sure if we should stay UP on the platform, or run downstairs and effectively be BELOW the platform. My feet were glued in place long enough for the world to pick up and carry on as if a 6.8 earthquake hadn't just shook through our city!
(Nisqually Earthquake: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2001_Nisqually_earthquake)

And, then the skytrain pulled in to the station, and everyone went on about their days. 
I have never forgot that moment. And tonight watching people's reactions to this earthquake, commenting about their first earthquake, I sadly, can remember what that felt like and relate. It left me unsettled, as I'm sure many of the 'First-timers' also are. It's a great reminder of just what our great and powerful earth can do. I am grateful that this evening didn't leave rubble in it's wake. Just a lot of uneasy west coast-ers likely not going to fall asleep anytime soon. 

And as all of us who grew up with those familiar warnings might be thinking, that we are hoping this was just the plates responding, reacting and resettling after today's earthquake in LA...and not any pre-cursor to the Big One. As I for one, am hoping my 2001 6.8er is as high up on the Richter scale I go. 

Signing off for now, Stay safe friends! 

                                84809 words. 207 pages.
     I've been writing for about two decades. When I started writing fiction, the muse was so inspired, I was writing at least three stories at once, anywhere, anytime. At work, on the bus, at the mall, waking up overnight to write in the dark, just to get an idea out and not miss it. It was crazy. And exciting! And, exhausting too. 
     'Back in the Day,' I even had readers online who encouraged me with their eagerness for more and praise of my stories and characters. It was their positive feedback that steered me into college for creative writing classes, which I LOVED. 
I met amazing people, learned invaluable tips and skills, and also received great constructive feedback from my classmates and professor. 
     At that time, I was writing Utter Chaos, Like it or Not, and Not In This Lifetime/Another Day In Paradise. These stories are 90-98% completed (and sans vigorous editing passes). I also have ideas for about a dozen other stories. It wasn't long before I realized that, I can come up with countless story ideas, and write until my hand falls off, but somehow my feet become trapped in cement and I am standing motionless. For reasons I still can't quite grasp, I couldn't wrap up a project in a nice, pretty bow. This has been my problem for almost fifteen years. 
     In the few years since transitioning back to land after my life at sea as a youth counselor on a cruise ship, and dealing with a few massive life-size curve-balls, the muse began to once again throw out new story ideas left right and centre. Suddenly I had three new stories vying for attention. I remember saying to my best friend, how unbelievably tired I was feeling. She replied: "Well, yeah. You pretty much have two full time jobs." I considered that for a moment and realized she was absolutely right. I was working full time at the rent paying day job while writing nearly around the clock and somehow still finding time to socialize if possible. No wonder I was exhausted!
Still, being tired and being unable to cross that ever evasive finish line aren't exactly the same thing.
     Tumble Into Me quickly became the story I knew I had to see it through to the end. It's fiction, of course, but it means the most to me, because I dedicate it to my mother. After losing her to COPD, I found I was able to write through some of my grief, turning it into a heartfelt story that I was truly invested in and I HAD to see this through to the last page.
     And yet, that familiar brick wall positioned itself in the middle of my process on a handful of occasions. One of which was so imposing, I didn't even open my laptop for months! I used my breaks at work to complete anything important online, and stayed connected via my smartphone. I couldn't so much as glance at my manuscript. 
     Soon, I began feeling super upset about that. I was so committed to seeing this one to the end, and yet I couldn't bring myself to put another word on the page; nor to edit another sentence. I figured I was just mentally drained from staring at the manuscript for months <read: years> on end. As it persisted, I knew my age-old problem had resurfaced. 
I wondered if I reached the








   






     I wasn't happy about it, and the longer it nagged at me, the more I realized that I couldn't let it win this time. So instead of staring at the scene I had been stuck on for what felt like eternity, I started back at the beginning, re-reading the story I thoughtfully constructed. I felt proud of the words on the page; of the characters I'd created and the more I read, the more recharged and refocused I felt. This time, when I reluctantly reached that snag, without time to consider the two parts of this story I desperately needed to connect, words seeped out of my fingers tips onto the page. Suddenly the scene I thought I'd never create, seemingly wrote itself, perfectly connecting the first two thirds of the story with the last segment. As soon as this happened, I knew this was it. I was finally going to finish the damn book! 
    It felt so damn good! SO good, in fact, I went right into participating in the Pitch Madness Twitter Pitch Party and pitched my heart out. As I type this now, I'm still in disbelief at the amount of interest I had this time compared to March. A landslide of a difference, to be frank. And, as usual, tears instantly prickled my eyes. I know I couldn't have reached the end of this story, without my driving force, my motivation and inspiration, my mom. But not being able to share these exciting moments of a budding author, is really difficult. I miss her so much and hope in the not too distant future, to share these stories with you in dedication, and in memory, of her.
     For those of you feeling stuck, in your story, or in life...just like that kindergarten Bear Hunt song suggests: If you can't go around it, and can't climb over it; sometimes the only thing left to do, is climb through it.
     Is there a habit, in writing or otherwise, you'd like to break in the fast approaching new year? Please share. :)
                        Here's too conquering walls - one brick, and one habit, at a time. 

While it might have seemed that I fell off the face of the planet between my Jan blog post and now but that couldn't be further from the truth.
     In January, in the middle of writing my next blog post, I noticed a retweet on Twitter about things that prevent one from becoming a NY TImes Best-Seller. Sure, it was just another writer's life meme but as I sat writing my third blog post in a weeks time, I realized it rang true to me. How can I have time to write yet another blog post but still not have completed the current draft of Tumble Into Me. It actually got under my skin and I couldn't be more grateful for it. 



















    






Believe or not, as much as I love the story and the characters of Tumble Into Me, and I really truly do, I was tired of re-reading the same pages over and over, which turned out to be one of the best motivators out there. I was tired of looking at this story, which was hard to realize. I mean, I LOVE my story and the characters so much but I was so very tired of editing and revising. All I wanted to do was WRITE!! SO, I abandoned the blog post I was working on and vowed I wouldn't return until I had finished Tumble Into Me. I limited socializing with friends and family, forcing myself to pay attention and focus on the finish line. Well, guess what? It worked! It's finished. Not only that, it's out there in the world! Yep, I started my first rounds of querying ever. It's a very exciting and rewarding <albeit nerve-wracking> time.
     Mostly I'm looking forward to the next couple weeks of reading and writing at random. I think that's reward enough for reaching the finish line. Even if it's two years too late. Better late than never right?
     Did you have an A-HA! moment similar to this? What adjustments did you make in your day-to-day life to get back on track? I'd love to hear them. Happy #AmWriting everyone.