Tag: anxiety

Week Three (Day Four)

Posted on by Aya DeAniege

Writing first: Suppose I should officially say this as well.

I am looking for a new set of characters within the Contracted world, or a similar sort of story set in another world. I had a flash of one, quite liked it. Then I lost it. Problem being, I can’t remember when, or much beyond his cold eyes. If it could come back to me (but not in school) that would be great.

The forerunner of an idea is barely more than a fragment. For starters, I need names for these countries I’d be dealing with. But Mr. Wrightworth’s country basically takes over old France (it’s mention in Izzy’s story, then again in Will’s that they won) except they aren’t going down quietly and no conquering country is free of sin.

So, upon catching a rebel, probably needing information, they tie her up with this general or something and he’s had a taste for the lifestyle but is also a douche. Thing is, I’m not feeling the ‘fall for the douche and stay’ plot. Maybe there should be a second guy in there.

Huh, maybe that’s why it feels incomplete. I’ll have to consider that.

Still no Crop work. Ugh. So… Saturday morning I’ll be pounding that out, along with Sunday. Putting in edits isn’t really work for me, especially since I can put on a show or movie in the background.

Other stuff:

Work with the co-worker today, well, not really with, around, near, kind of in passing. I’m currently trying to convince my stomach that I’m not dying and my brain that it’s not too bright in here, that everyone else isn’t louder than usual. I can hear them over my music and it’s at the highest volume I can manage without being in pain.

That volume always cuts them out, so I know it’s just because of a me issue, not a them issue.

I hurt and I’m tired. Work is doing a strip and wax, which is where we move all the things except, like, the aisles themselves, and then a crew comes in and strips the wax off the floor and puts down new wax.

Yesterday we had lots of… we didn’t prepare at all. But. I wasn’t the closing manager, I shut up and did it her way. It wasn’t painful until this morning. Oosh.

So, moving all the stuff, the closer walked up and pushed on one of the mobile things and commented on how it wouldn’t move. She’s a foot or more taller than I am and frankly, I think she has more muscle to her. I frowned, set my hands on the mobile and just leaned.

A body in motion will stay in motion. So the trouble is always getting them moving in the first place, but once they’re moving, they’re good. Well, we moved a third of the mobiles together and then I realized we had ten minutes before the end of shift and I didn’t want to stay later when I was already later than usual and hurting. Leg acting up last night, today my back would like me to know I suck.

But, already hurting and want to go home… I left them, walked to the other side and moved a third of the mobiles by myself while they moved the other third. I’m not super strong, I just know about leverage, motion, and that the mobiles have no option but to move. Once you tell them that, they tend to move.

Today we have to move a bunch of what are called bunkers. Sort of like plastic boxes a foot and a half by a foot by two and a half feet… full, mainly. The items vary in weight to feeling empty to… what was that the one year… sixty pounds? Then lift them onto a stack of somehow organized bunkers on another big thing and push the big thing into another area.

(To hear the next morning about how you didn’t do it properly no matter how you line them up)

Look, I get it, putting them back is an inconvenience.

So is moving them when they weigh half as much as you, when the capable bodies around you aren’t moving or helping because they’re ‘tired.’ It won’t wait until tomorrow, or until you’re rested unless you want to stay for another four hours. Just rip the bandaid off.

This all means I’m sore and tired today, but it’s not the exhaustion of last week, I’m not on the point of tears. I almost feel like I’m wrapped up in a blanket, like besides the anxiety, a calm has come over me.

In school, the ‘bad’ grades are coming in. They were 100s at the beginning, now they’ve dropped as low as 70. But this isn’t my total grade, this is individual grades on assignments and the 70 was because of the missed assignment. The others are between 83 and 95, which, as they’ve said a multitude of time, doesn’t matter to employers. I need to hit their passing percentage of 60. My concern is as we advance toward Christmas, life at work sucks.

Could we de-commercialize Christmas? That would make me so happy.

Ain’t no body need the items we sell at 10pm at night.

Or 11pm.

So, I desperately want 100s as buffers.

The schedule that loads with my days off appear on Sunday. Sweet babies. When the boss gets back, we need to have a sit down conversation.

About more than the co-worker.

I need a day off to myself at least every two weeks. That was what was promised to me at the beginning. I went into this still in my position because that was what was promised. If the promise can’t be met… well.

You’re going to see me cry a lot more.

No, I would have to step down or full on quit. School has to come before work. Anyone would pay me low wages to be walked over, to do the same work. It’s just other companies would be like, “yeah, Aya is in school, we can’t have her work outside her schedule.” or “Yeah, Aya asked for this day off, but what do I care? She’s not as capable as this person I have who’s worked for us for twelve years.”

I wouldn’t have as much to pay down debt, which is key to full on quitting and living off the writing. I’d also have to cut back on what I’m paying in board because I might not be making enough in a paycheck to pay the full board. It’s super irritating to me, but getting through school and into a type of office job would be better for stress, better for my bank account and, depending on the boss, maybe better for writing.

I’ve heard a lot of stories of office workers/desk workers (especially in the almost-secretary position I’m aiming for) to do their own thing between clients. I would love one of those jobs. Writing makes it look like I’m working on something super important too!

I also have to drive sales, obviously. And obviously I’m having a little trouble. I know there are readers out there for me. I know they exist, it’s just finding them. And not finding the people who wouldn’t like my books.

Or…

I could win the lottery. But I hear you have to actually buy a ticket to win?

Week Three (Day Three)

Posted on by Aya DeAniege

Writing first: I’m now considering/dabbling in smutty short stories or novellas from Coffee and Blood. I mean, come on. They’re vampires who sometimes have sex to pass the time.

It’s just that the sex doesn’t fit in with the actual stories they’re telling. Sex happens between stories, or after stories, or the tales of debauchery are kind of shared in an offhand manner, like they’re relating changing a tire or something.

Contract Taken received a five-star review on Goodreads and I’m so flipping happy. I’ve been seeing a lot of unhappy readers leaving ratings and reviews. Other authors say it’s because I put Contract Taken up for free so I’ve drawn a lot of people to me for the price, but those people don’t necessarily like my style. They just read everything that’s free and then leave bad ratings.

I mean, a rating is personal, so I get that. I just wish I could get more people who like the books to leave reviews.

On the plus side: you can tell I don’t pay for reviews. I don’t have five hundred five-star reviews all vaguely glowing about ‘this author’s book.’ Nope, you can tell they read the whole thing. Or didn’t, but come right out and say they didn’t finish.

Everything else:

2iratx.jpg

I actually think in memes when I get uncomfortable. They’re like little comics which can offset my mood and get me thinking about other things. Sometimes they make me giggle a little and completely remove the mood. So, I use them inside my head when and where possible.

I guess I like memes, is what I should say.

The above is in reference to my desire to call in sick to work. As soon as it popped into my head, I realized it probably was high anxiety riddling my system and my body protesting that enough is enough. I get it, I do.

Every little thing this morning started that pre-attack twitter in my chest. From refilling the cat’s water dish to random thoughts.

I did sleep last night, woke in the middle of tensing up, almost-charlie horse in my freaking leg again. Ugh.

Saw that work posted schedule for me and then looked up the full schedule. We’re not really supposed to do that, but there was a weird thing where I’m the closing manager but I’m not scheduled to close… and my hours were ever so slightly shorter than they usually are.

The person who did the schedule, once I looked at the expanded one, put an extra body with me every night. So, yeah, that’s fun.

I see the person who violated my Facebook privacy on Saturday. I have no intention of bringing it up, but I also know that I can’t talk about personal items with this person. She’s proven to be untrustworthy and it’d just be best if I left off and just focused on work with her.

I don’t work with the person who I had the blow up with, I do see the assistant manager. I don’t actually know where she stands on the person in question. However, that’s her doing her job. It’s no one’s business who she supports, but I do not need another strip taken off me.

I suspect that the extra body is either mandated by the boss (who kind of got involved at 3am in her timezone. I thought it was 9am because I reversed the change) because we all know I’m stressed out and tired and my feet are dragging. I’m like a regular manager.

If I could insert that drum and cymbal sound that goes at the end of a bad joke, I’d do so now.

But it’s true, I’ve been told so often in the past that I work faster than others, I make others feel bad, blah, blah, blah. And then when I hurt or I’m sick, or I’m just having a bad day, their response is:

“Now you know how other people feel.”

Yeah, it’s really shitty of your to bring up.

Instead, I normally inform the person once more that I’m hurt/sick/off and that I am not feeling well in any form of the word. That for me, this isn’t normal, this is very abnormal, this is very wrong.

And, uh, school…

I missed an assignment for keyboarding. It will barely lower my mark but I’m really broken up about it. That’s not like me. It’s really not like me. Especially since I do the assignment and I print it off before I leave the class for the day. How?

How do you mess up that system, brain?

How?

The only time I didn’t do it was this past Friday because we had timed typings and it ran late, so I don’t think I even finished the section until that afternoon. But, I printed it off on Monday and handed it in. I’d say I hope, but she’s already posted my mark for that area.

It was small, very, very, small, but I’m upset because let’s say that was an email I missed.

I’d be in super trouble. No, not really, it’s mainly just a sign of how stressed I’ve been, how out of it and overwhelmed. My brain is skipping about and not focusing on what I need it to focus on. So. I need to pay more attention, actually super figure this out.

Which is super annoying.

Yesterday, I started the reading for Interpersonal Communication. We’re reading a selected self-help book, which I loathe by the way. I hate self-help books. I don’t want some wank millionaire preaching to me about how he became a wank millionaire. Because that’s basically what they do: you’re doing this wrong and this wrong and this wrong.

Bitch, please, I knew that before. Stop telling me how to do it wrong, strip all that nonsense out and tell me how to do it right.

I’m reading How to Win Friends and Influence People. So far, it’s the training my company has given us. Good company, have a treat. But only a little one, because your head is bigger than your bank account already.

Except they don’t tell team members that’s what they’re doing. They’ve just been passing this stuff down.

“Use a person’s name. Introduce yourself.”

“WHY WOULD I DO THAT?”

“Because we said so.”

Ugh. Names are the sticky point for me at the moment. I respond to a lot of different names, including ones that don’t belong to me at all, aren’t even similar to my name. No one ever gets my name.

I once had a regular customer for six years and she called me Rachel every time she came in. I wore a name tag, I corrected her the first two years and then just gave up and started responding to Rachel.

I don’t use other peoples’ names because it sounds insincere and weird. How often do you hear your name in a conversation? Like, really? When the book was written, I can very well see it, but I feel like we’ve swapped over from using actual names to non-verbal communication surrounding the act. We don’t use someone’s name, we now turn to them, or hesitate and make eye contact.

But the book says to use names, so I’ll try to use names.

I will probably cry the first couple of times. Because that’s my reaction to everything for some silly reason. Overwhelmed? Cry. Upset? Cry. Angry? Cry. Happy? Cry.

Sad? Laugh.

Scared? Laugh.

Sympathetic concern? Laugh.

WTF?

Anyhow, started reading that, listening to music at the same time. Now I’m overwhelmed by sound. I need quiet, not even white noise, I just feel like I need to find a sound proofed room and stay there for an hour or so because sound is starting to frustrate me.

Heaven help the poor soul who chews loudly.

Oh, oh, there’s a term for that. I’m in sensory overload.

Yayyyyyy….

I say sarcastically.

This is the first time I’ve noticed entering sensory overload before I basically have an angry temper tantrum inside my head because someone is chewing too loudly or breathing in my direction but two tables away. I guess that’s a plus, but I don’t have the option of secluding myself somewhere and taking a breather.

I was a bit secluded last night, did some writing and watched a show. My unwind time, basically. Wrapped up in a blanket, cat on either side and just doing what I wanted quietly.

That didn’t help.

I feel like I’m constantly blanking. If it weren’t for that internal personal aide, I’d be so pooched. Even with accounting, they wanted us to write up an income statement. My response?

“A what?”

“An… income statement.”

“What goes on that?”

“What goes on a P+L report?”

“I don’t know! How would I know?”

To which I basically facepalm because I do know. Let me tell you, if that voice was an actual person, they’d lose their patience with me a lot.

Whoa. There’s something called Sensory Processing Disorder? And it sounds like it might be linked to OCD (which hypergraphia is also linked to).

Oh, boy, I just went looking for ways to calm down the sensory overload so I don’t end up in a pouting meltdown, because for some reason it’s one of those things I don’t cry over. Nope, kind of pout like a child. I don’t like that reaction either.

Sullen silence, I think my father used to call it. Because, you know, not allowed to throw an actual tantrum.

Anyhow, school is about to start and I need to focus on not throwing up on the person who sits beside me, who is super quiet all the time.

 

Week Three (Day Two

Posted on by Aya DeAniege

Writing First:

… just drew a total blank.

Uh, right, I finished reading Contract Claimed last night. When I started reading it, I thought it was complete. That is not the case. As I hit that area, I had this flash of a promise I had made to Mr. Wrightworth to go back and expand. The book was originally written for NaNoWriMo 2018, it was the start of my 12-in-12 challenge. Halfway through, I realized my issue, but also that if I didn’t get something down, I’d lose the thread.

So, I’ve got a nice flow and then all of a sudden something like two books got mushed into the later half of Contract Claimed. The plan is now to fix that.

Nate’s story will be the second trilogy out of Contracted, still slated for editing next June or so. Then, once it’s scheduled for editing, I will do additions and the like for Will’s story. I’ll revisit Contract Gifted at some point and expand on that as I had originally planned. Once all that is written and done, Mr. Wrightworth might consider a one-off to wrap up the series (or at least those characters) where his name is finally revealed on the last page of the book.

Because I’m evil, or he is, your choice.

My beta is about a hundred pages into Harvest  and asked if there’s actual sex in the books at all.

Uh oh. We realized I added it during the edits. But, admittedly, Coffee and Blood tends to have less sex than most of my other books.

Possibly because I’m on a bit of a theme, after her comment, a sadist from the old Devil faction appeared and offered to seduce half the Eastern shore of the North American continent.

I should be putting edits into Crop, but my mental health is in the way again. This isn’t even a part I could hire out for. I need to take each edit out of context, judge it, perform the edit, do a check, then decide if the new way even looks good.

Then do a scanned spot check of the surrounding area to see if anything else jumps out at me.

Other stuff:

I spent the trip to school fantasizing about going onto stress leave from work. It’s my understanding doing so qualifies me for Unemployment Insurance. Or maybe it’s employment. I don’t recall, because I’ve never used it before.

What I’ve heard is that if I go on stress leave, tell them I chose to go back to school because I knew work was stressing me out, they might even help pay for the schooling. There’s a special name for it, but they basically help you get the training you need to get a job and get off of their services.

Except, for that to work, I would need to explain to them the situation with my co-worker. She’s the reason I chose to go back to school. She’s also the reason I applied for my manager position, because I had to get as far away from her as possible, even though I knew I would be going back to school.

There’s a, uh, a worksafe program, that might actually be their name. When you report that kind of thing, they do a full on investigation. The company can be fined, the boss could get in trouble.

It’s not her fault. She’s been trying to correct the behaviour. And I don’t really want the company to be fined. Their handbook covers the topic quite well. It could mean termination for the one involved.

I’m not the type to derive any sort of joy from that. I want this person to change and to stop hurting people. If that all happened? She would be bitter and angry and nothing good would come of it.

I’d much rather the ability to go on stress leave and for her to put her nose into the air like she does and say, “I knew it. She was never cut out to be a manager.”

Nine and a half years experience managing for this company in like six different positions.

It’s those little details that really explain my reaction. I don’t just have so much experience with this company. I have moved between different stores and learned different management styles. Different customer bases. Different ways to approach things. I learned that my way does not necessarily always work. I’ve learned the company’s way… typically works.

I’d just like them to stop cutting hours and to add more back in.

It’s… I’m tired of fighting her.

I had trouble talking myself into bed last night. Anxiety hit me like crazy hard and I don’t understand why. I don’t work with her today. I don’t even work. I don’t see her until Thursday and even that is in passing, is my understanding.

This morning, despite dragging my protesting self to bed at nine, I’m more tired than I was last night. I hurt more, probably because I woke tense. I keep giving myself these weird charlie horses in my sleep because I’m so tense during sleep.

My stomach is still on lock down. I never want to eat, having difficulty downing my coffee or talking myself into water. I’ve got this feeling a physical beating is coming and I just want to get it over with already.

Which, admittedly, is probably why I’m a little more focused on Mr. Wrightworth than I should be.

I don’t know. Maybe I should take the time to write that Master-child scene between Kaz and Balor that started playing through my head. It’s only about a chapter long though, so what do I… How do I handle it when it’s done?

Can’t just slap that into the box set, when it comes out, people would expect an extra bit to be Ashley and Kaz.

Admittedly, I could write that as well, but Kaz is super gentle and sweet with Ashley. He’s always had a soft spot for women. Always nicer with them than the men.

So, let’s say I wrote the Kaz and Balor chapter(s) for the sake of my sanity. Then what?

Then what… start an erotica anthology and just talk about these stories I’m writing but never publishing? I think Amazon allows 10k + words. I think. But would that dilute the world? Would those who like the vampires feel like I was pushing the issue, even though Kaz has had Balor tied to that bed on and off for a year?

I don’t know what to do.

Week Three (Day One)

Posted on by Aya DeAniege

A couple of posts have been made private. They involved a co-worker I am having trouble with. Made private because someone showed her how to find my personal facebook and then showed her locked information which only stated I had cried, and apparently when my experience is dismissed and I’m talked over, I cry.

From how she spoke, I felt she believed I had threatened her, like I had come right out and made a physical threat in that one little post. I’m confident and comfortable sharing that post with everyone, but it was under a friends only lock.

The one who showed her my personal information has been removed, but I had to privatize the posts for fear of what she might read between lines that aren’t even there.

As many of you read, there was nothing threatening in the posts. There was nothing threatening because I only threaten people sarcastically and I need to know they know I’m joking before I do so.

I suppose that’s not quite true. I have threatened to hit a man three times my size if he didn’t leave right away. I also threatened to have someone arrested if they laid hands on me again.

And then did so.

The issue, of course, blew up in my face like it always does. Coming from a specific background, I have certain reactions that happen but I’ve worked very hard on them. I no longer black out during ‘discussions,’ but when I realize they aren’t listening, when they are only interested in beating me down, I start crying.

I can’t win and I want to rage or scream or swear, but instead I cry.

Mental health isn’t just one day strapping on your big-girl panties and being better. I try to show that with my characters, so yeah, I suppose I draw on real life because some moments of struggle the characters have are things I’ve had to work through. To me, it makes them more real. I hope readers feel the same way.

The result of yesterday?

I cried like I haven’t cried since I found an ex laying in his own blood, since he screamed at me everything was my fault and then stormed out of our apartment, still bleeding everywhere. I haven’t cried like that since I was on my hands and knees, cleaning up his blood, trying to figure out where I could go, how I could escape.

Oh yeah, there’s a bit of a fucked up past up in here.

I get asked a lot, “why would you put your characters through that?”

“Through what?”

“That, it’s godawful.”

“That’s a Tuesday. Just… give me the book back.”

“Why?”

“That’s not even the problem or the climax or the bad guy, just… just give it back. You’ll have nightmares.”

I’m not saying my life has been godawful, but it’s been… colourful. Character building. In the words of a good friend of mine: Enough has happened that I have fodder for a  million books.

So, when I get like that, I bawl my eyes out. My heart galloped in my chest, it’s rhythm completely out of place. I almost thought I was having a heart attack of some sort.

I’ve made changes to my life to protect myself and help myself that I have been practically normal for a few years. So normal that I forgot there’s a level of crying where your diaphragm starts trying to jump into your throat. That your stomach can heave, and you make that godawful wailing sound even when you’re trying to calm yourself down and your mind is calm but your body is just like, “FUCK IT EVERYTHING NEEDS TO END.”

Not like, end as in dead, just end as if the day. Straight to bed is what needs to happen.

I cried on and off for about four hours. In front of customers, because I’d be helping them and it’d just start again.

The why now seems distant. The why doesn’t matter as much. My reaction bothers me. I want to be able to put my foot down and say, “No. It’s not because I’m tired or stretched thin. It’s because I take issue with your actions.”

After that day, I still went bowling. Now I ache, in a good way. Every time I stand up, I think of Mr. Wrightworth. I started reading Contract Claimed yesterday morning. About halfway through.

I really wish this was longer. If not a trilogy, a duo. Almost inhaled a mouthful of coffee over the brunch scene.

I almost missed an assignment due date because I was so stressed out. Yes, I’m using that word even though the assignment is for Interpersonal Communication and we just learned the word is used too much.

I also clued out on a freaking Computer Test.

Go me.

I know what they are, I just sometimes lapse on their actual names and uses.

 

Week Two (Day Four)

Posted on by Aya DeAniege

I feel weirdly alert today. The little voice in my head suggested it’s because my valerian might not be valerian. Did an internet search, it’s not possible to remove the smell of Valerian entirely. So I opened a capsule… know what didn’t happen?

I was not mauled by cats.

Uh, so, I’m going to pick up some of the stuff I know is valerian and put it on my shelf, but I might not be taking it on my long days. Little worried that could be part of what’s causing the joint pain.

Need to pick up new shoes (again) but hopefully this time they have my shoes in black, like they have every other time I’ve gone in to buy shoes. Ah, well.

This is something like day twenty for me, of thirty-seven or so. I’m halfway through, so I’ve got that going for me, right?

Stomach is upset, nose can’t decide what it’s doing but I’m hanging onto that until I get full on sick. I’d rather be fending off a cold than full on cold. Joints hurt more today than yesterday besides my shoulder.

Last night I got out of the shower, looked down and said, “why do my feet bones hurt? What the fuck is wrong with my body?”

It wasn’t the ache of foot ache or bad shoes. Yeah, intimately familiar with that kind of pain. Unfortunately, it was an echoed ache from my hands, but in my feet. I knew, logically, that feet are basically malformed hands, but it didn’t quite dawn on me that the same joints that exist in my hands are in my feet until last night.

Yay… I say sarcastically.

Next week work is doing a strip-and-wax of the floors and guess who has to move all the stuff for it to happen? Me.

Yay… I say bitterly.

I was given one extra body to accomplish this task… which takes five people two full hours to do and cannot be done while the store is open. I don’t think my joints will magically be better, considering the fact that I am on my feet, moving and using my hands constantly between now and then.

My boss said she had given me someone else and you know, she could have not. I’m almost certain that was sarcasm, not a ‘threat’ in any manner as she and I have both been expected to do the same task with fewer bodies before. Having the body doesn’t change the fact that I have nothing extra to give and that kind of work needs a lot of extra and energy, pep and cheerleading because everyone is tired very quickly and they all think the company should just curl up under a rock and die already. It’s a lot to expect of people you’re paying minimum wage to.

Oh. Then there’s the week after. Yeah…

The next Wednesday, I do my driving test.

Yay… I say sarcastically/anxiously.

Oh, and the head honcho of the country for our company is visiting. At first, I shrugged and said whatever, I dun care. He won’t be there when…

Oh, wait. Fuck.

He’s visiting us last in the day and expects to arrive about the time I walk in with my grumpy, stupid face. After my driving test, which I’m trying to put into a frame of mind like I already have my license so I don’t stress as much, but can you imagine that meeting if I don’t get it?

Me. Thirty-three days in, just failed my driving test, have a bunch of homework to do because mid-terms are about to start, and he’s visiting, oh but I also hurt still from the strip-and-wax because that takes about a week for me to recover and it’ll have happened just shy of a week before?

Dear lord…

But, as I said. I’m more than halfway through my thirty-seven day straight. So, I’ve got that going for me.

Right?

Week Two (Day Two)

Posted on by Aya DeAniege

It took until I reached school for me to recognize that weird heaviness all over. My joints are aching, on top of more pain, and I’m already sick. Yesterday my nose started running after lunch so I could very well be sick and tired, and in more pain now.

I should have suspected when I had an internal argument with myself this morning over shoes and my backpack. I wore the backpack as I put on my shoes, normally I take the backpack off and kneel to put on my shoes, you know, like a normal person. The idea of kneeling made me whiny and the idea of taking off the backpack only to put it back on again made me call the inner voice who argued with me a very nasty name.

Normal people don’t have full on conversations with themselves, I realize, but I do. Especially when stressed or annoyed. Heck, the voice even helps me remember things, it’s like my personal Siri or Cortana.

Anyhow, I’m supposed to be imputing edits for Crop this morning but I think I need to do some self-care to get through this day. Then, when I get home, I need to medicate with a couple different things and go to bed early, hoping I’ll sleep the night through. At this point, it’s the only help I’ll have.

In a month, though, another option becomes legal. I wouldn’t have to take ibuprofen for the swelling, Valerian to keep me in a deep sleep, and St. John’s Wort to take away the brittle edge that pain puts me in. I can stop at a dispensary, buy a little something, have a puff (quite literally one puff) and then sleep the whole night away.

It’d even have the added benefit of replacing anything I take for anxiety or insomnia for about three days. Replacing such side effects as agitation (how exactly does an anti-anxiety helper cause agitation?), insomnia, and all sorts of medication conflicts with dry mouth, the munchies, and sleepiness.

All without breaking my brain, writing, or mood, so I’m super excited about that.

So, obviously, not working on Crop today. Instead, I ended up reading The Last Prophet on the trip to school. I think I want to expand on this a bit. I think the wrap up doesn’t have to end like a movie does, I think we can do wrap up in the book and not write a separate novella about Sweetheart. Well, not about her outcome. I think I need to add more about P.P. Marky.

A prophet who became a rapper and exists in the modern day, obviously conflicting with the title of the book. I kind of want to hug Marky, as his songs make it onto the radio and later on Abby recalls one and uses his prophecy to save them. Prophets aren’t supposed to be able to cross the thresholds of other prophets, so that could maybe be where her title comes in? I dunno.

I’m looking forward to expanding on this.

The cover artist contacted me a few days ago and I responded. She had been on vacation and then sick. Woops. I checked for a blog or news page, I must have missed it. Completely my fault that I didn’t give it another week, but it’s ingrained in me to follow up. A cover will eventually be in the works, when she is recovered and goes through her messages and puts me on the schedule.

The Last Prophet has distracted me from my pain today, and my frustration and emotions over the past couple of days. I’ve found myself opening the file between classes to read more. This is a good thing, especially for me.

The only trouble being, I requested a wrap with the cover artist. The e-book cover is free, I would pay for the wrap. But the poor woman needs to know about how many pages the book would be, and I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about it and I might be able to add another 80k words to The Last Prophet. It’s going to be a beastie, but there are other things I want to add and explore and delve into. Everything is just a flash, and partway through I asked myself: why? Why is it a flash? Why can’t there be a couple of chapters extra? Why can’t David take lunch with Sweetheart so we learn about her, but also to show their relationship instead of having him just tell Richard? Why don’t we learn about Abby and her parents? Why does she just casually mention her father is dead, when there’s a magical force behind that?

Why doesn’t she call her mother when she awakens?

There are so many other things that need to go into this. And you know what? If it winds up being so freaking long, I can always break it into books like I do all the others. Let’s face it, if I took my trilogies, I could probably work them into one book quite cleanly, besides maybe Contracted because of the time jumps and changes between books.

I feel like I have the bones of The Last Prophet, basically. They’re good bones, they’ll work very well, but they don’t have as much flesh on them as I’d like. So, I’m going to take my time and do what I will with the book. I’m going to turn it into my vision instead of pushing the first copy out in the world.

I seem to be moving away from erotica and romance more, but my bio does say “whatever takes her fancy” and “when she finds a world she loves, she dabbles endlessly.”

Sure, The Last Prophet could go under its own pen name for high fantasy or something, but … no. This is me, this is how I write. I know there are people who insist an author must write only one genre, but that’s just not how I can work. It’s not how most of us work, and few seem to realize that. They hear about Stephen King switching from horror to the dark fantasy genre and they were scandalized and thought he was an exception to the rule.

I like to think of it as authors switch genres as much as readers do. Just because I love Robin Hobb, doesn’t mean I read her exclusively. Nor do I stick to her genre for reading. I also love Anne Bishop, Anne McCaffery, Anne Rice, and Stephen King when I’m in the mood. I’ve picked up single books from some weird scifi/fantasy hard boiled detective something before. I enjoyed it and put it down and never picked up another.

My writing is the same way. So, despite a four day debate about switching The Last Prophet to another pen name, I’ve decided to keep it under Aya DeAniege. And, yeah, it’s the same pen name that published erotica and plans to again. The same pen name that dabbles in vampires, witches, werewolves, and angels. Both in sexual and non-sexual context.

I suppose, with my love of the book, I should save up royalties and pay for an actual editor for this one. But at the length I’m looking at it would be $3-5000 to edit it.

If my writing paid that kind of money, I wouldn’t need a student loan, heck, I wouldn’t need a job. When I felt like this, I could take a long, hot bath with a glass of wine and a good book, then sleep the day away.

I have a vision for The Last Prophet, and it’s keeping me sane and just a little stable.

Now it’s just a matter of how to get what I want.

Planning etc

Posted on by Aya DeAniege

So, school starts on Tuesday. Most of my work will be wrapped up by then. There are final edits I will have to make time for and work around but that was bound to happen.

The schooling I’m taking is a technical college, I think they call it. Basically, they are going to teach me how to do a new job. It’s also a little like on the job training and I need to network and be a happy person every day.

… this is the part where I swear.

Ah, well.

School is taking priority over both writing and the day-job. To be fair, though, after this long I can do my day job in my sleep. I need physical energy and nothing more.

But over all that time, what’s going to happen? I’ll just vanish for nine or ten months and reappear?

That’s not my plan. Instead, over the next nine or ten months I will find bits here and there for writing. I have to, or I will go mad. I’ll make time for edits, or I’ll start editing text books and the instructor’s notes. I’ll update The Others between school and work.

I will still do things.

But I’m making only one promise: every Monday I will write up a post. It could be what I learned the week before, how I’m doing, some snippet I’m working on. Whatever it is, I will write an update. I will post it here.

With any luck, one of my first updates will basically be: no homework. Totally writing another book.

But I’m not leaning in that direction.

Instead, I’m looking out over my time and am weighing things carefully. I don’t want to fatigue myself too much but I could have an hour or more of a wait between getting off school and getting home, a two hour wait on days I work the late shift.

It’s my own fault, should have gone for driving lessons sooner.

My first priority is obviously homework. That needs to get done, I need to put in an effort for getting the tasks down pat. My second is supposed to be networking but I need a handle on my anxiety to be able to talk to people.

I might join student union.

I didn’t feel that anything much was said about the Student Union besides that they raise money for Cystic Fibrosis, had a bouncy castle last year, and do ‘lots of things.’ Events change between years, but I feel they could work on their communication, especially if they want to get everyone involved.

Because I’m in a leadership position at work so I forgot I’ve got this problem.

The problem where, when the orientation lady looked over a group of ten, I’m handed the paperwork and then I manage the whole scavenger hunt.

It’s not even my anxiety doing it. My level is about a one right now and that’s probably because my new supplement is starting to wear off.

A gym full of people smelled sulfer and I was the only one to get up and ask about the weird smell that reminded me of natural gas. Everyone else stayed put.

Which… is super weird and concerning.

I think that means I need to add ‘natural leader’ to my resume, right? Except I loathe taking on leadership roles when I’m not certain of the surroundings. I can do it, but the fear of failure in those environments is enough to spike my anxiety. Which causes an attack, which makes me cry, which… etc.

I want to buy all the books now, but I’m a broke bunny until the grants come in. Which apparently isn’t for everyone? I assumed it was, but when I went to the student center the nice woman I dealt with was very surprised that I obtained so much in grants.

Apparently, I’m a broken but lucky bunny.

All I did was go in to show my notice of assessment and then I asked the question I’ve had for the past couple of weeks about what I need the first day. Then I shut up and nodded and listened. I caught myself trying to run, though, and made my feet return to where they had been.

In doing so, I learned that the student union has a book sale of donated books from past students. I spoke with the president one on one for about two seconds, she kept staring at my boob (I realized after she might be committing my name to memory, crap) and she’s in the same area as me and knows they have one of the books I’ll need and that it’s the right edition. It might not save me much, but every bit helps.

Right. Plans.

I’m converting books and all else over to OneNote. It’ll free up space on my phone and allow me to access from any of my devices. I’ve been worried of late about the phone dying or me losing it / it being stolen. This way if it is lost, I don’t lose part of a book as well.

Trying to Work

Posted on by Aya DeAniege

I have struggled to get edits done for Crop over the past week. I have goals, I have timelines, but I’ve been so stressed out by the day-job that I’ve managed absolutely nothing for two weeks.

And that sucks.

This morning I started editing Crop and even got through a couple chapters of removing ‘was’ (one of the many things I’m trying to do to strengthen my writing) then I finished my coffee and went out on an errand.

When I got back, I should have gotten back to work. Instead, I took a nap.

I did deserve a nap, but it’s also hours not being put into the work that I’m already behind on.

I miss the days when I’d stumble home from work (stumbling because I was tired) pour myself a glass of wine and spend the rest of my night editing as a way to unwind.

I’m working night shifts is why I can’t try to do that, I think. That and being constantly broke.

My school year is fast approaching and between it and work, I won’t be able to relax into much writing. Especially if the student loan doesn’t go through. Then I’ll need all the hours I can get to pay for the school but unlike a university degree, I can afford to pay for school with my current situation.

Come on, student loan.

The writing hasn’t really come back yet but my backlog for editing is pretty extensive and I wrote out all those plots weeks ago just in case this happened during the school year. It just so happens that my ability to write ended months earlier due to stress and anxiety.

Tonight, I’ll do more edits while watching tv shows. I’m also factory restoring my little tablet/netbook thing so I can start working while at work. They insist on working me full time hours (but since I need the hours, I’m not really complaining) on night shifts so I’m going to make it work one way or another.

As in, this works or I’ll be taking a baseball bat to it.

The writing I have been doing, for books of course, I’m trying to watch how I write and do it stronger to start with but words fail me. It’s an indicator or stress and overworking.

I’m going to be removing the games from my phone and avoiding certain sites like Reddit where I only read half the titles and have mucked up my attention span.

Going to have to read books again instead of skimming, oh noes!

Updates

Posted on by Aya DeAniege

The site has a new look, at least for the moment. Well, it might be given yet another new look in a few days but I’m not minding this one. I’ve adjusted the menus up top and two new pages for sub-series. The only trouble I’m having is that the older cover images added for Contracted and Wraith’s Rebellion have a weird white border around them. I’ll re-add them later and see if that solves the issue.

I already want to go back to writing Coffee and Blood. I’m kind of thinking about writing Gaia next. We’ve kind of beat out the details, so that’s good. Ish.

I have not done up the timeline yet because I’m trying to figure out how to fit forty-thousand years of human innovation and exploration into forty-two inches of paper. Recall, the closer to modern times you come, the more events and inventions there are. I think in the first twenty-thousand years of Hera’s life the most significant human discovery/change was the domestication of dogs.

Of course, I’m generalizing the timeline. There were lots of stuff happening in there like the recent-ish discovery of stone jewelry, and I’ve read articles about them discovering agriculture as far back as forty thousand years.

I like history and I like myth. My retention of that information is spotty at best but I do love reading and re-reading it.

The past three days or so I’ve been consumed by anxiety. Sitting in my basement room, playing Sims, and basically pouting.

Because I knew I was anxious and that it was holding me back but I couldn’t drag myself out of it. You know, that ‘upset that you’re upset’ feeling.

I updated The Others yesterday and wrote part of a second post for that. At least I got something done. I had trouble sleeping which isn’t necessarily a problem, but as the anxiety has abated some but not entirely, it wore on my for three days, and I didn’t really sleep last night means that this morning I’m mentally exhausted.

It took an hour and a half to put a chapter of At Death’s Door through an edit. But, I did it. I’m going to try to do another when I get home. Then I’m going to make a cover, maybe two. My thought on Wraith’s Rebellion has changed slightly so I have to go looking again. I also need a colour that would go well with the books. I used a red-orange for The Reaping so that’s not an option. I could use the brown that is in the original covers because I had thought of using the original texture too but brown on a cover that’s not completely consumed by an image?

Might look funny.

Barring that, I can start an edit of Crop.

My only trouble at this point is that I want to play Sims but also work. I’ve done that before. It’s very possible. I just need the computer for At Death’s Door because nothing else I have is capable of running my editing programs. Which means I have to be done the edit and covers before I can move on to playing Sims and editing at the same time because only the computer can use the photo editing software.

The more I think about all this, the less I want to do the edits and cover design. Likely, I’m feeling burned out and I haven’t had a new book out in several months and yet have been reading and hearing too much about how you’ll never succeed if you aren’t pumping out books every couple of weeks.

I can keep that pace, if I don’t do editing and covers. At the same time, I’m not a big believer of rushing things to publication before I’m happy with them.

And you can succeed if you don’t publish constantly. And by constantly I mean once every three weeks.

But at the moment I’m in a slump and I’m feeling rather like the world is telling me I’m going to fail. That’s likely linked to the anxiety I’ve been having, as I know I get like this sometimes.

Then one day I wake up and decide the whole world can burn, I roll up my sleeves and get back to work.

I guess this is still linked to the ‘upset you’re upset’ that I’ve been feeling.

I still haven’t gotten around to making covers for sale. It seems the price of them has gone up meaning not only can I not afford them ‘even more’ but also if I was making them, I might be able to afford an editor/cover designer for my books rather than struggling through them finding what’s right for the book I just wrote.

Suppose this ended up half-rant, half-update.

Back to work after the day-job and until school starts. Then writing has to go on the back burner because working and full-time school and the boyfriend.

I don’t have time or money to do all that I want.

And my luck is poop so I can’t even joke about winning the lottery because I’d never win it.