Dear readers and friends,
In the craziness that is my life, I've been pretty neglectful of this blog. I think about it and my following here (thank YOU) a lot, and I think about what I could share, but the fact is, my author hat has had to hang on its peg (I really don't have a peg for my hats; it's a metaphor) these last several months. I may or may not have a new book coming out next year, and the idea of that makes me pretty sad and frustrated. But things here at home are demanding and some things have to give.
I'm not referring so much to our new little boy and the adoption, though that is a huge, incredible portion of my life right now. He does take nice long naps most days and I have lots of helpers after school. Will is transitioning really well and thought it's a ton of work, it's worth it. I've raised four of my bio toddlers into nice, somewhat functional grown-up toddlers. I've got this.
No, I'm referring to the demands, the selfish, relentless tyranny of physical pain (dramatic, huh?). Some of you know I fight chronic back pain and have done so for most of my life since a car going 65 mph slammed into my car while it was stopped. I was 22 years old. I missed death by feet. Since then I've ridden a roller coaster of rising and ebbing pain, I've had years of different treatments (please don't suggest any, really, I've had them all), and various diagnosis, and because of the instability in my lower back, have suffered through several disc issues, including bulging, rupture, and now a protrusion in a precarious position. In summary, it hurts.
As I recently told my editor, it's hard to focus on romance when you feel like you're being ripped in half.
And now, after so many years of hearing, "We want to save surgery as a last resort," it's time for a last resort. I meet with the neurosurgeon next week. I'm frightened, but also fine. I don't hope to be cured, but a little relief would be nice. Just enough so I can start writing again. So I can lose myself in a story and a struggle and a happy ending.
Yes, I've heard lots and lots of back surgery stories, horrific to miraculous. I know. A few weeks ago I made the comparison of what to expect in the outcome of back surgery to playing roulette. I'll be peeking through my fingers and praying. Feel free to join me.
I do have 30,000 words into a new romance. But I already know I have to rewrite it. When I'm in pain my writing dives into a darker place and that's not what I had in mind for this story. I had to let my wonderful editor know I couldn't make my deadline. I'll still be working on the story. I like it and I think it needs a place outside of my head. I'd also like to be working on my fantasy stories. I can dive a little darker in those, and escape a little further. But until I get this newer injury taken care of, it's a struggle to even focus on my own world. That's a pretty important place, too.
I hope you'll stick with me as I crash through this particular hurdle with my usual tenacity and grace. I'd like so much to share my stories. I'd like so much to try to put a little more hope and triumph into the world.