It’s been a crazy couple of weeks around here. I have a child who is preparing to have four different surgeries (all minor but necessary) in the next couple of months, we just finished a round of strep throat, I have one child competing in the NWAC Championships in Track (college), and another preparing to go to State in Track for high school – both in the same week, but different states. Plus, I’m still plugging away at the non-fiction book with my sisters.
On top of it all, I’ve joined two new critique groups, am looking for a third, and…(drumroll, please) I’ve begun writing (fiction) again! For the first time in five years, I’m writing something that isn’t related to the Unleashed/Courting Disaster series’.
I don’t know how I’m going to do it, really. But that’s half the fun for me. Call me crazy, but I like to run around with my hair on fire. I burn more calories that way.
Last night, as I spent an hour on Pinterest, then another 45 minutes on Google going through page after page of photos of gunshot wounds, which was followed by tattoos that cover scars, I realized if anyone ever looked at my search history they’d be appalled.
I often joke with my husband that if he ever dies under mysterious circumstances, I will immediately be arrested. My computer would implicate me for his death and half the state’s unsolved murders. Yeah, it’s that bad.
But, on the upside, I now know an exorbitant amount of information on self-defense, cutting-edge military equipment, unique ways to hide weaponry, living off-grid, and of course, what various calibers of guns, rifles and shotgun wounds look like on human flesh. Because, you know, a writer can never be too informed in these matters.
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