Boxed In

I’ve stopped remembering what day it is, but now focus on how many days I have left to get all the stuff out of the apartment. I think I’m down to nine now and as you can see still have much to do. My daughter has been doing the packing because (1) I’m incapable of NOT over packing a box, (2) she uses much less tape and (3) she actually takes time to wrap stuff whereas I just toss it all in together and hope for the best.

I’ve not been without tasks. In fact I’ve been extremely busy. While she’s been packing I’ve been wrapping up the last few assignments for grad school. I’m down to two (one in each course). I’m have to finish my final annotation packet which includes revisions to the novel chapters I’ve been working on and a new beginning for something I read in workshop. After that I have one final test over four criminology chapters (btw I’m also working on a masters at Indiana State) then I’m free to help pack. The criminology just sort of fell in the mix and probably originated from my love of psychological thrillers and desire to one day write one.

 

 

 

 

 

I’m so excited about the move and can’t wait to check out all my favorite places here in Tennessee. Of course there are places it doesn’t have like Fry’s, Einstein Bagels or Whataburger, but I’m sure they have some pretty awesome places that are similar. I look forward to finding some cool writing spots, coffee shops and of course making new friends.

My novel is coming along and I have to thank my mentor for understanding me. I’m one of those writers who likes quirky characters. For my characters life is not without obstacles and things aren’t always pretty. They’re not ridiculously over the top, but if I want something where the days are always sunny and there is always a happy ending I can read a fairy tale. Reality is just not like that and I feel I owe it to my readers to write something relatable. In the novel I’m working on Macey is the character I love most. Surprisingly she is the most unordinary and the first one that came to mind when I thought of the plot. When I wasn’t so busy with school I’d fall asleep writing and my characters would come alive to help out with the story in my dreams. Lately I’ve missed their input. My dark piece centers on a character with depression, but I’m still trying to figure out where I want to take it. I haven’t put a name or face to the character, but I can feel her pain as if it were my own. She may become one of my favorites.

 When I get a moment to breathe I may share some short stories, but first I have to find time to write something other than what I’m presently working on.

Until next time 🙂

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