"Let's call him Rex"

Commenting now seems fixed. Comment away, or if you prefer, contact me via email using the CONTACT form page in the menu. Twitter is also an option, as is Facebook, but both those methods seem . . .like vaguely remembered witchcraft rituals in which the great Nyx may swallow up your message whole. I am working on a commenting policy as well. I will post it once I’ve refined it. But the gist is: 

“Be civil and relevant. Failure to do so will result in your comment languishing in the nine pits of hell.”

As long as you can do that, then I open up my blog to you for commenting. So sit down, scribble away, have a cup of tea, there’s cookies  on the table tray by the door. Watch out for the website’s cat. It’s like a bookstore cat, but much bigger, the size of a small love seat.

Editing the first space novel today. In a strange fugue where I felt possessed by my muses the same way some speak of demons possessing young children, I wrote the final scene of the Space Novels Trilogy yesterday. I know how it’s all going to end, but I have no idea how I’m going to get there in just one and one-half books. I think that means I pulled a JK Rowling. But I’m excited for it, even though editing is grueling stuff. (Fact, editing is writing, not just surgery.) Have set aside the short stories for now, besides editing the completed short story. Productive day. 

Which I desperately need. Finding out how to manipulate my reptilian basal ganglia into letting the logical brain Get Things Done is a challenge, but I think I might have finally found a rhythm that works. If I’m going to come to terms with my mental illness, depression, and the interrelated health problems, I’m going to need a few new tricks. Like not giving a damn about certain things anymore.  And forcing myself to sleep, eat, and oh I don’t know, exercise. Not exactly revolutionary stuff, but when I made the mental shift from trying to program my healing into my brain like a software program install and instead moved over to learning how to appease the base instinctual reptilian brain to let me do what I need to, things clicked. 

How do YOU get past the “I don’t wanna” part of your brain when you have things to do but would rather be lounging on the sofa instead? Leave your thoughts in the comment section, please.