I haven’t posted on here in over a month. So here’s a post. Wheee! I have nothing to say. Okay, I’m sure I can think of some things. I wake up every morning at 6:30 a.m. Then I hit snooze until 7:30 a.m. I put on my bathrobe, feed my cats, pour a bowl of cereal, and make coffee in a little coffee maker that I bought at the thrift store for three dollars. Once I’m done with my cereal I pour my coffee then sit at my desk. I write in my journal until I’m done. Then I write one thousand words of my current project, which is a novel set in a beach town and is not, necessarily, a piece of erotica. But it is a genre piece. And I’m being deliberately obnoxious about teasing it for a couple reasons, one of which is that I’m a little embarrassed by the genre I’m working with. But I’m not embarrassed at all by what I’ve been writing because it’s just good, good to work on. When I’m finished with my thousand words I go into work – usually late, but I get there. And then I work. When I get home sometimes I work on writing more but usually I don’t. Sometimes I go to the gym. I get ideas at the gym. That was where I got my beach-town novel idea.

Last night I forced myself to sit down and read my first-draft manuscript for “My Sister’s Boyfriend Joey: The Novel” (tentative title), which has been sitting on my computer for the last forty-five days, unfuckedwith. You guys – it’s good. It’s just good. So I’m going to start revising it and hopefully start forcing some friends to read it. And then I’m going to start querying agents because I’ve never done that before and I figure it’s worth a shot.

I cancelled my internet service a couple months ago after coming back from a vacation in a rural setting where there was no internet and when I got back, the cable company had raised my bill by ten dollars, and I’d just spent a week with no internet so I was feeling very hippie-ish and I cancelled my internet. And when I got home that night I had a mild moment of panic. But that has passed and I think not having internet is a good thing. For now. I’m still deactivated on Facebook and I’m trying not to be obnoxious about that but it’s hard because I really fucking hate Facebook and it feels really good not to be checking it every fucking five minutes and reading what amazing things everybody (EVERYBODY) is doing and being unable to resist comparing myself and feeling worthless and pathetic as a result.

Maybe you’re reading this and it’s making you feel worthless. I’m sorry. You know that most advice is bullshit, right? You know that your life is your own, and the immense power and beauty that comes from all of us living according to our own rules, don’t you?

So I don’t have internet which has had the slightly-intended effect of making me much more productive when I do get online. So I’ve published a couple of my ebooks to markets where they were previously unavailable, so that’s good. And I’ve published one of my stories to a bunch of free story sites (like Nifty) which has increased my web traffic exponentially, so that’s good too.

Basically, it’s all good. Even though the days are so short and sometimes when I wake up and enact my little routine it feels like slow death. Sometimes it does. Sometimes it doesn’t. I find more gray hair on my head every day, it seems, around my temples and in my facial hair. I’m lucky to have it.