Books, Books, More Books

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It’s the killer book haul. Get it? Yeah?
Great!

Hehehe…

 Keep collecting more and more books. More than I’m capable of reading at one time. No matter. At least I can never complain about being bored. There’s more books that I want as well. Caraval and Winter Song being at the top of my list. Along with another Game of Thrones that come out in the spring. Yeah. 

Lots and lots of books. At least i have a hobby and my husband know’s what to get me. Or at least have an idea. 

Got Minion #2 home from school with a slight cold. So filming is out of the question for the day but that’s fine. I still got a house to clean and editing to do. Gotta stay busy some how and things are pretty slow at the moment. 

2069

The candle light casts shadows across the walls. The old bomb shelter covered in dusts and rusts. They hadn’t been here in years. The last time when they were nothing more than a couple of punks looking for a quick buck.

Now.

Jesse sits on the lowest cot, wiping at the sweat on his brow as he flicks a gaze over at the girl across from them. She’s holding the last gun in between her hands, swinging it back and forth as Will fiddles through a cabinet in the back of the space. Looking for food though Jesse doubts there’s anything edible left in this place.
There might be a small protein pack that they could split. Something that would only cut into that edge that they were all feeling moment.

Instead of a wrapper, something is cracked open. Jesse looks up to see Will fidgeting with an antique radio. Something they messed with in their younger days when there wasn’t much else to do. After a few quick twists and a thump some hundred year old rock song came on ‘SUMMER OF ’69” Jesse believed it was call. He couldn’t be sure. The old disc was stuck inside the CD player, something they jammed to as boys when it really was the summer of 69, or close to.

Near fifteen years of have passed since those days when they would drink all night, wrapping themselves up in some young woman’s arms. Never caring where the next job was coming from as long as they had a place to crash and a few beers to guzzle down at the end of the day. Those were the days.

Cailin’s toe starts tapping, the gun swinging back and forth to the beat of the song as Will places the radio down to rummage through the cabinet some more. scoffing at the song that played.

“You remember that year?” Cailin asks, looking at him through some thick lashes. “2069?”

Jesse nods. “Vaguely. I think we were around here.”

“I was ten. Mama took me to the cities for the first time and they shot off some fireworks.” A smile spreads across her face as she looks back to the ground and whispers. “Best days of my life.”

Jesse looks to Will, the man’s meets his gaze and they nod. Sharing the same memories of huddling down in this same bunker. Candles lighting up the space with Clint in the corner, bellowing out the lyrics at the top of his lungs as Jesse sat on his bunk and Will held his girl, Jai.”

He wondered briefly what happened to her. If she was even still around .Maybe her and her sister, Jien are up there ready to turn them in to keep the peace of the town. He couldn’t blame them. Couldn’t blame any of the towns folk. Things are hard these days . If the wolves aren’t literally after your ass it’s the thugs like Stranson threatening them left and right.

Kill that man had been the stupidest thing they’ve down in a while. Now, with Stranson on hot on their hills and a whole towns people pissed at them for one thing or another. This bunker wasn’t the best place to hide out. They needed Guns, ammo, fucking food.

Once again Jesse runs a hand through his hair as he curses Clint for taking off with their truck.  What the hell were they going to do down here?

Fucking rot, that’s what.

“We can’t. We can’t give up.” Cailin grabs his arm, shaking as her fingers nails dig into his skin.

“What do you suggest then?”

Cailin looks to Will. “You’re not going to like it.”

Jesse shrugs, waving around them. “Don’t like this shit much, either.”

Crippling Self Doubt

 

I’m scared to touch it. I really am. Like it’s sitting on my desk staring at me. Practically screaming for me to read it.

I know at some point I’m going to have to. That I’m going to have to look at it and read it and maybe scratch somethings out and scribble in more things, but right now, in my head it’s perfect. It’s the perfect little thing that I don’t want to touch cause I’m terrified that it’s going to be a lot worse than I already know it is and I’m only going to make it even worse.

It’s that crippling self doubt that we all are plagued with. That shadow of a doubt that tells me I can’t do this. It’s a stupid endeavor and I need to back off.
I need to ignore that voice. Let it go and not worry about it because no matter how bad it is, I know, that I can make it better. With a little elbow grease I can make this better.

So, here I go.

Things to remember while editing your work

  1. Yes, its necessary.

  2. Copy-editing is the worse

  3. Take breaks or the mind will melt

  4. Find fellow writers to help ease the editing process

  5. Never give up. Never Surrender.

That’s is all

At the beginning…

1st-post

So, I did this thing. It’s not an amazing thing. Relatively small in the grand scheme of things. Ideas formed, characters were birthed and scenes played out. Ink staining paper until it grew big enough to be called a story. Something tangible and touchable that can be held and read and loved.

I wrote a book.

Well, a first draft anyways.  Still for some that’s a pretty big deal.  Now comes the fun part. The edits and re-edits and then sending the manuscript out for commentary and another round of edits, or two, or three.  Seems to be a never ending cycle.

And don’t get me started on doing this again with another story. Not that I wouldn’t. I totally would. Just looking forward to one story at a time and in the mean time.  I’m creating this blog as a diary of sorts. A way to keep tabs on where I’ve been and what I’ve done. Welcoming you all to follow along and hopefully one day I can looks back and say I did it.

I wrote a book