I am only a few chapters from the end of this the final round of edits — well, the final round before I send it to my publisher — and I discovered something. I’m a scatterbrained, sponge-headed, ninny.

I have somehow got random versions all mixed about, despite carefully trying not to. The chapters I’m working with are not necessarily the ones I should be, the manuscript I was going off, may not be the latest version and I have one version which may be the latest (pre this edit round) but I can’t find the proof of it.

Last time I was going through this – and had been sending chapters to my beta-reader I came to a point where I stopped. Life happened, but also I had a thought, a creative blurp that I didn’t know if I could actually follow. There would be good things to it, but it may interfere with the flow of the novel. I paused, waiting for more chapters to return and to deal with whatever it was life was using to beat me down.

Time passed

When I returned to this novel, to finish a final edit /read through before passing on to my editor at Xchyler, I had assumed I could follow this side track. I got the inspiration from my Muse and wrote a half chapter and then a new ending to tack on to the one already there. Based on these additions I wove in a tertiary plot line, because it worked and would enrich the tale just that little bit.

Now I know I have pasted the place where this new chapter would come in. I realized that I had been adding chapters to a manuscript that just stopped – assuming this was the right one because it stopped when I stopped adding the edited version to it. However, it should have stopped at this point of possible revelation…which it didn’t.

I have already tried combing through the knots in all the different versions of chapters, and manuscripts trying to find that place – that moment captured in words. I have yet to find to find it. Thus I have to widen my search and get a finer toothed comb as well.

If I can’t find the right place, I will have to cruise through and see if I can find a place it should go – or more importantly can go. I have to see if I can actually fuse this new chapter into the manuscript. I want it there, I think it helps – but if there isn’t a true place waiting for it’s inclusion… forcing it may just result in further work all along the writing that will simply be cut out again once my editor reads it.

I finished up with the last chapter edits from my beta-reader. I have four or fine chapters left to edit. I will leave it as it is for now. I am getting my Scadian on this week, and going to a five day camping event leaving Wednesday morning. Tuesday will be final run around and packing up – and so the issue of guessing which is the right manuscript will wait. I will attack the puzzle fresh when I return next week and try not to stress about it until then.

So in my last post I mentioned how the universe was pelting my with lemons and interfering with plans. A lot has happened since then. In some ways, nothings changed and yet … everything has.
My truck is still broken – the how and why remain a mystery. I have a mechanic willing to ‘start throwing things at it’ to figure out what is causing the issue, but that can’t begin until next week – the week the event happens.

We finally got a chance to put up the tent and see how it faired after nearly a decade in storage. The mice up in the attic had definitely decide to test if it was food. The once white canvas is dingy, though not mouldy, and we were missing many hooks that help hold the sides of the tent out. Almost as soon as it was erected, I noticed the center support pole had cracked. The fiber-glass splitting up from where it rests over the pole beneath.

Also – my wife’s battery for her vaping…died.


I have other batteries, maybe not as good or as long lasting but I have them, so she is using mine until we place an order at the end of the week.

The holes in the tent have been patched, my wife went out with some canvass and a needle and thread and took care of that. I have extra poles to replace broken ones, and I taped up around the broken one, just to see if it would hold. I made more of the missing hooks out of clothes hangers and they are working. Most important, we just passed through a massive Thunderstorm with brutal winds – and the tent is still standing.

My parents have offered, along with coming up to watch over our animals, to let us take their van during that time to get to and from the event. Even though are wheels will be in a garage that week, we will still be able to attend the event.

In the end, this became another example of my family steeping up – of just hoping and working towards what want despite the odds – of smiling through the darkness. In some ways it seems I’m cursed, but in others I’m abundantly blessed. Today, I know I will have a great weekend, not because of what I hope will happen, or because of memories of such events years passed. I know, because of the bridge laid down for me to be able to get there is enough in itself.

Lemonade never tasted so good!

So we decided we really wanted to go to the next camping event. We started to gather together the things we would need, and purchase some of the rest. I asked my parents if they would do the huge favour of coming and watching over our beasties for the five days we’d be gone and the were awesome enough to say yes. We told the relevant people we were coming and the dimensions of our tent. We were getting ready – we were getting excited – we were forgetting that the universe doesn’t like us very much.

Driving home from getting my meds, and ordering a fuel filter (really needs changing), and getting a few supplies for the tent pole… the ‘Limp Home’ light came on. That is a sign something is really bad and you should ‘limp’ to the nearest garage. It could be something simple, a sensor shorted out, or the shift ratio somehow out of whack – it could also, very easily, (especially on an old truck like ours) mean a part of the transmission is shot.

I don’t have very much time to fiddle around and find out. If we are going there are a million things to do (like clean the house so I and my wife don’t die of shame having my mother stay here) if we are going – can’t do them and tinker with truck. On the other hand if truck isn’t running … well none of the multitude of tasks need to be carried out.

I was seriously hoping I wouldn’t have any issue with the truck for a good long time after finally fixing the whole glow plug, glow plug relay thing. Should have known better. I really don’t know what to do or think. I really have no desire to even open the hood. There is one thing I can check rather easily – and I will very soon. I have already checked the other two really easy things, but unless my ashtray lighter fuse being blown is somehow causing this warning…

I know my parents would say to just bring it to a garage and get it fixed. And that is wonderful of them. Alas – that still means a period of time of indecision, of not knowing, and right now I’m just feeling like it’s less stress to call it off. Also – there is no garage less than forty minutes away, which, if it’s the transmission…. Finally, they have already shelled out so much money for a truck that – well, that they didn’t really think I should buy.

I’m glad I bought alcohol for the camping… because now, I at least have something to drown my sorrows in.

See – aren’t I good at seeing the bright side of things.

In case you are wondering what this post is about – it is about cute baby animals
baby duck

No, you’re right – it’s not

I just thought it would help to distract you from the title for a second. I’ve been making  the final edits to my next novel ‘Bindings & Spines’ – and of coarse by final I mean final before I send it to my publisher and start the multiple rounds of edits associated with that. So here I am editing the manuscript that has gone past me twice, then to my personal editor, then past me again, then to my beta reader- then through me. Whew!

Only…. I just reached the spot where I stopped editing the chapters sent back to me by my beta reader.

Bad writer – no coffe . . . nah, can’t even type it.

So I had to go through my files and document in the B&S folder to find where exactly I had stored these, ‘from beta reader but not past me’ chapters. Managed that and, of course, because of rewrites and restructuring the entire beginning the chapters numbers are discombobulated but the store lines up, so that’s good. So now I get to edit through my beta readers comments as well as try to maintain an extra high level of alertness so that the last chapters of the novel go to Xchyler as well polished as the first ones.

I also need to insert the one new chapter ( and actually write a bit more of it to fit smoothly into the plot… once I discover where it goes exactly). I theory I still have plenty of time – unfortunately it is saying things like ‘ I still have plenty of time ‘, that leave you in a panic, stressed out, and beating your head trying to make a dead line.

Creative challenge unlocked – ready for more edits . . . if only I could remember where I put down my coffee

Yesterday, I decided to change my medication dosage.

Stop panicking, waving your hands about, and gasping. I only play with my medication to the extent that my psychiatrist has authorized.
Due to my cycles being long, drawn out, things, I need to adjust my dosage accordingly. I am very sensitive to the ticks, twitches, and tells of my cycles, and thus, after the first year, my doctor said it was acceptable for me to control my own bump and reduction of my one med.
During bad times, I take two 500ml and one 250ml. When that passes, however, the extra 250ml can get in the way of my ‘get up and go’, so I need to lower it. Some years, I find that dropping it just never is a good idea, others, it works fine. These last few days, I’ve felt a bit disconnected – the interest and desire to ‘do’ existed, but the actual ‘doing’ wasn’t as strong as I’d like. So I decided to skip my 250ml last night.
I did warn my wife – fair is fair.

Last night turned out to be ‘ one of those nights’ when my brain wasn’t racing but had no interest in sleeping. I don’t think the one lead to the other – just fluke. I went to bed at 3 am – and my wife woke me at 9 am. Not nearly as much sleep as I like to get
So this morning, while I ingested coffee to kickstart the day, I found myself torn. Part of me was revved up and rearing to go – the other was slogging through mud up to its eyebrows. Sleep deprivation meets a less controlled impulse drive. Part of me couldn’t wait to get going, doing social media and hobby crafts. Part of me wanted to beat that side t o death and use its body and pillow to go back to bed. The latter impulse was subdued – with promises of an early night.

So now I am tired and feeling a bit dragged out physically, while inside I’m a bit jittery and ready to get things done.
Well – at least I did warn my wife.