Friday, December 07, 2007

Too wired to write

Honestly. Today. My back feels as if I've had a wire coat-hanger placed just beneath the skin and some bugger is twanging on it until I'm so hyper that I just can't think. I've struggled with the writing today (but whether that's a cause or a result, I simply don't know) and am feeling hugely unconfident. God, it's not going anywhere and no matter how hard I pedal, the damn bike is slipping down the hill. No, more of a ruddy mountain than a hill.

I also feel I'm not trying hard enough or smart enough - one of the two. Seem to be working like a dog at the moment and producing very little. For the first time ever, I'm also not going to be at the wordcount I wanted by the end of the month. I'd been planning for 60,000 but shall feel glad if I make 50,000. All this is giving me a huge guilt complex I can't seem to climb out of and making my back even worse. God, I really am my own worst enemy, but it's soooo difficult to stop beating myself up. Bloody hell, just think of what most of my main characters are like - no wonder it's hard to stay on an even keel. Whatever one of those is.


And double bloody hell, but I soooo hate being premenstrual. I swear - if I ruled the world, I'd make every man go through this feeling of being twisted up as tight as a coiled spring that's been squashed into a space one-third too small for it. And been attached to an explosive. Then see how they liked it, eh. Oh yes, revenge - a wonderful thing. I also swear that if the damn thing doesn't turn up soon, I'm actually going to self-destruct and run screaming through the streets of Godalming waving my grandfather's ceremonial sword. Lordy, today, if ruddy Sylar from "Heroes" walked in and tried that neat brain removal trick with his finger on me, I'd kick his sorry ass halfway to Guildford and back without even getting out of breath. Which begs the question - if the cast of "Heroes" is so bright, why didn't they just get a bunch of premenstrual women on the case, and the psychotic super-powered serial killer problem would have been solved by Episode Two. Yattah.

Anyway, I did limp through a few paragraphs of The Bones of Summer this morning before giving up and going to lunch with Ronnie - an old friend from my last job - and his new assistant, Melanie. Which was jolly, and Ronnie paid, hurrah! Afterwards, I popped into see Gladys, then did some essential shopping in Godalming. Where the Curse of Brooke maintains its ancient power - now that the Grey-Suited Farts who run companies have discovered that I really like Dr Stuart's teas from the Health Food shop, they've decided to stop selling them. Mean bastards. Where the bloody hell am I going to find my detox teas now?? At least, ones I like. No-one asks me about these ruddy "managerial decisions" and I'm the ruddy customer.

Double sigh.

Back home, the good news is that Jackie now has the final PDF version of Thorn in the Flesh which she has sent off to the printers. Her momumental task has not been helped by me changing things and panicking every five minutes, so thank you, Jackie, for your great forbearance and skill. And you are fully entitled to bite my ankles next time you see me. I will have deserved it. So I have stopped worrying about that, hurrah! Though I am now worrying about the cover - as neither Lord H nor I are able to make the corrections needed to get the right size spine, so I've asked Penelope - our wonderful artist - for help. Alternatively, the printer might be able to give advice, but there's nothing that can be done now till next week. I don't know why I'm getting so stressed and tearful about it, but I am. These little things sometimes just completely overwhelm me so I'm utterly unable to function. Even with two calming pills, dammit.

I'm also way behind on my domestic routine, and the amount of things which need to be done is simply piling up sky-high, with the threat of drowning me completely. Is it just me or does life seem more and more often like a huge marathon designed purely to trip you up? And God, but if I can't even keep up with my own standards, what the hell am I supposed to keep up with???

Triple sigh. Plus extra screaming.

Hey, but the cold is better, so I'm well enough to feel stressed. Hey bloody ho.

Today's nice things:

1. Lunch out
2. The text of Thorn going to print
3. I haven't actually killed anyone yet.

Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Goldenford Publishers

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