ETA: Um, whoops, this was originally titled “Almost One Year Later.”
The new title, I like better, but makes no sense with the opening paragraph. I am still a little punchy.
No, this is not a reference to how long it has been between blog entries. Only slightly over a year ago, after a prolonged battle with the bedbugs that ate all of our soft furniture, linens, and a good chunk of Housemate’s epidermis (she still has scars) we left what we called the for-now apartment, fully expecting to walk into a new, better one in the span of a week, tops. That, as regular readers of the blog will remember, is not what happened. In fact, it was the opposite.
Right now, in my planners, I have the fifth of September listed as our “homelessversary,” marking a full year between permanent addresses. In between, we have had multiple ER visits, involuntary camping trips, amazing family and friends, one feline jailbreak (and reunion) the total loss of ability and/or desire to read my favorite genres (or anything else) and paying any sort of attention to video entertainment that has two digits before the colon in its duration. My favorite show has been YouTube, and even that has seen me groaning at videos with the interminable duration of four minutes and fifteen seconds. Both attention span and short term memory have taken nosedives, which is both perfectly normal and not something I like.
As of the start of this week, I have learned another thing. Apparently, my body’s response to the potential of strong relief is to go wet noodle for 24 hours, which basically is a sleep so deep I feel like I’m trying to kick my way to the surface in a pool full of well-set gelatin. The relief is due to a phone call that came early Monday, the latest round of phone tag with a prospective landlord we have been wanting to connect with for most of this time. We went to view an apartment, and we love it. The property manager loves us. Now we are filling out paperwork, getting ready to put down a deposit, and The possibility of spending at least part of our homelessversary getting ready to move into our new home is very real.
Sleeping at the bottom of the gelatin pool was yesterday. This morning was up early, and at the keyboard, with a sense of purpose. I’m not saing that normalcy is strictly needed to do any writing (what writers would call themselves normal, after all?) but I can say that this was a very encouraging development, and one where I will be sure to keep you all posted.
So, what does this mean for the writing? For one thing, I hve learned that living the vagabond life with a desktop computer is not easy, but it can be done. We are still looking at obtaining a new laptop, or repairing an older one, so that I can take my show on the road once we are settled, aka writing in coffee shops, or the park, and yes, that does sound a lot like what I have been striving to do while living the vagabond life, but it’s different when it’s by choice, not necessity.
As part of that, I did a quick brain dump in my general writing :salute: notebook, to list the historical romance projects that can most easily be revived. There are rather a lot of them. Ouch. Get to the end, Anna. One thing that hasn’t changed is that I still think in standalones, but I also like living indoors and eating food, and right now, linked books are what readers want, so can I find a way to fit what I do with what they want?
As it turns out, I think so. My historicals that I have brought to at least a first draft fall into a few distinct categories, namely medieval, Restoration, and Georgian. Please note that Restoration does have some English Civil War in it, because, well, they need something from which to be restored, am I right? Georgian for me refers only to the eighteenth century part of that period, since I have determined that I have been born without the Regency writing gene, and will leave that era to those who write it oh so well. My brain does not care on which side of the Atlantic my story people reside, so both Georgian England and the American colonies are fair game.
Not mentioned is the Tudor era, because although it was the first era I truly loved, (and love) I have not yet found my footing in that setting as of yet, but I have every faith that it will happen in time. Pun intended. also, if I add the Tudor era in there, I can conceivably wrangle a family saga, by linking my medieval people and calling those who come after their descendants. That way, I can go straight from the medieval age to the end of the American Revolution and things will all hold together…maybe? I don’t know, and I don’t have to know it today. For today it’s enough that I put my butt in the chair and my fingers on the keyboard and know that, in this, I am already home.