The. End.

 The. End.

So, The Luck Mechanics, book 1, is complete and I'm super excited. Yes, because I love finishing a book but because my life exploded, and for a little while there I couldn't write. My brain was too overloaded with other things--not to mention my life was too busy with consequences of those things.

I was so relieved that, after life settled down again, the writing was there, waiting for me to come back to it, and it hadn't been stopped forever. What I had wasn't writers block, really--I knew where the book was going and what I had to do to get there--it was terminal distraction. I had good reason to be distracted, and I wasn't going to beat myself up for it, but to find that it wasn't permanent...

I cannot contain my relief.

So for those who see a bit of a hole in my release schedule next year, you'll know why. For a moment, real life really did overwhelm me. And I can't promise this book won't need a shitton of paint, some screen doors and a bit of a makeover from the inside out to work.

But I'm proud of finishing--I'm SO proud of finishing. I've always prided myself on treating this like a profession and fulfilling the promises I make to my reader and my publisher, even when what I really want to do is knit and cry and watch NCIS (or whatever my hyper fixation at the time may be.)

I didn't do that. As soon as I could, I was back at the keyboard, even if I had to go gingerly because my arthritis had become a living breathing entity and not just a "some day when I get older" possibility.

I've been teaching a couple days a week for the past two weeks, and when I outlined ways for writers to help craft their stories I was reminded every time that I'd spent two and a half months writing a relatively short book and I wanted to cringe--and cry. But now I feel like I've lived up to those teachings, and that my professionalism has done me a service.

And I can sleep in, just a minute, before waking up to edit and submit.

And then I can start the next book (the Tech) because it's never "The End" when there's so much more to write.

Miracles and Whatnot

 Omg--I'm surprised I haven't told you all this already.

We cured the dog.

Okay--she wasn't sick, but I'm telling you, hauling that barking pack of Chi-who-whats through the park or through the neighborhood was starting to really wear at me. And we were the most hated dogs at the park. I mean, THE most hated dogs at the park. The lady with the boxer still curses our name whenever she sees us.

And then one day, I remembered the purple squirt bottle.

It's not much--small, meant for hair, fits in the hand. I bought it for this specific purpose, but I kept forgetting it and never used it and then, one day, I remembered it.

I swear, It took three squirts, maybe four, and suddenly...

We went from a rabid clatter of furry house demons to a... well, they're still the Chihuahua mafia, and they're still trying to carry out a hit on me and make my death look like an accident, BUT they haven't enlisted anymore homeowners or park walkers into their nefarious scheme.

In short? 

They all shut the hell up.

I'm boggled. 

I'm baffled.

I'm...

ELATED. 

Oh my God. Walking at the park is a joy again. I'm so happy. 

I haven't abused it, either. In fact, today I FORGOT IT. But it didn't matter. Literally a couple of squirts and Ginger and Carl have just remembered to shut the hell up.

It's blissful.

For the record? Geoffie? 

Has not. 

She thinks the water is just a happy little break from routine. Looks around, smiles, keeps on barking. But she still runs toward friends and rolls over to her back and exposes her stomach. I mean, Geoffie.

So there you go. A miracle. They're rare, but very satisfying.

And as for the whatnot?

I'm currently teaching my Crafting Category series in two places--one live, through the local junior college outreach, and one online, through the Paranormal Romance Guild. It's been a while since I gave classes--I'm sort of tickled. I gave my first live one in about two years, today, and they were super appreciative. I was so happy!

So, miracles and whatnot. 

You can't count on them, but they sure are nice when they happen.

Oops...

 So, uhm, recently I made a FB post about the analgesics I've been using to help me through the mother of all arthritis flares, and I have to admit--the CBD liniment has been a blessing. I'm not sure if it's the magic pot infusion or just the icy-hot coolness but it does have a certain immediate soothing quality--a quality of doing something for which I'm very grateful, particularly after I've been knitting in front of the television and then sit down to write. I mean there has been no "magic pill" so far-- Instaflex, Ibuprofen, analgesic cream, aqua aerobics, and sometimes, honestly, sitting an activity out or shortening my walk in lieu of the aqua have all gone into helping me to manage a situation that escalated more quickly than I anticipated.

But yeah. The cream helped.

Until today, when I learned a valuable esson.

I scooped out a bit much and was rubbing it into my hands, particularly around the knuckles, and I remembered my elbow joints were getting inflamed so I decided to put some there. Where the pain was. But first I did that thing women do when we're using moisturizer. You know, that thing where we rub the moisturizer into every bit of skin between point A and point B?

Forgetting, of course, that the skin on the backs of my arms is not in pain, and it's not inflamed and it is, in fact, quite tender...

And within a minute it was awash in the icy-hot flames of liniment vengeance as I tried to decide which sensation I hated most--the pain that was hindering my afternoon writing or the mentholyptic inferno that my skin had become.

I finally decided to just go nap. I could cover my arms with blankets to stop the icy-hot from enveloping my dermis and I could tuck my hands under my chin so the heat could ease up on the hand pain.

And I could resolve, ever so heartily, never to do that again.

When I awoke, the skin on my arms was back to normal--but so were my swollen joints. 

*sigh* I'm really learning to count my blessings.