Personal blog of christian
writer & fallible mom
Katy McKenna Raymond
in Kansas City, Missouri
Katy is represented by
Greg Johnson at
WordServe Literary
Read more Katy at
LateBoomer.net
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Recent Posts
- Try
- Becoming Brenda Starr
- Off Beat
- Scattered
- That’s It
- So I’ve Finally Signed With An Agent. Now What?
- The Spoon
- Sciatica
- Sweetheart
- A Woman’s Train of Thought Has No Caboose
- However much we own, we are all still living on borrowed time
- After all, when restaurants shrink portions, they don’t shrink prices.
- As with everything in life, balance is key.
- Slow down, you move too fast…
- Yeah, I know. I have issues.
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Onward
Today I discovered my rantings/writings of some weeks ago.What I love about me--and how weird is that phrase?--is that even when I'm really, really sick and horribly despairing, I manage to hang on to humor. I was really, really sick and horribly despairing when I wrote this:
"So I've written 7000 words, and I'm stuck. So stuck that I've gotten the migraine from hell, the kind that sends you to the ER for Demerol and then to bed for a few days, and then to the optho-neurologist, just to be sure your optic nerves aren't so irretrievably swollen that you're about to go blind all together.
He will say there's nothing remarkably wrong with me, unless he adds that there's been an incidental finding of a brain tumor that he wasn't really looking for. (Don't laugh--those are the words a doc once used to pronounce me neurologically healthy, except for the brain tumor.)
The doctor won't be able to believe that I would devise such shallow and hollow excuses as migraines and tumors for not pushing forward with my book. He will find me a poor specimen of a novelist, if there ever was one.
'But I don't know what to write next,' I'll whine, like he's a shrink. Sure, he's my head doctor but not that kind of head doctor.
'Well, what happens next? Shouldn't you just write what happens next?' he'll ask, innocently.
That's just the most maddening thing a human can ask, as far as I'm concerned. What am I? A fortune teller? How do I know what happens next? I made these people up, but I can't just dream up situations to plunk them into as if they were any random characters, like my husband or kids, or something.
The stuff that happens to them can only happen to them, and I have to know them really well before I know what kind of stuff could happen only to them.
Every time I think I've got a good start, it all comes to a sad end. I've got nothing."
Well. Since I wrote those words, I've added another 23,000 to the novel. It's not everything, but it's not nothing, either.
I'm not really sick right now, and the despair could be more horrible than it is. So I press on.
After all, I am a fortunate patient. This time, at the neurologist's, there were no pesky incidental findings.
Posted by Katy on 08/22/03 at 01:59 PM
Fallible Comments...
- Incidental tumors. The best kind, right?<br><br>And about that Demerol... docs tend to be leery of using Demerol (out here in Sacto, anyway) because people tend to become addicted to the stuff. Out of all the painkillers, it produces the greatest "high".
-----Posted by Maria on 08/22/03 at 05:01 PM - It was, indeed, a great high. The same docs in the ER gave it to me last fall for ischemic colitis (in ER, and then for 5 days as an in-patient). I presented six weeks or so ago with the mirgraine, and they asked, "What do we usually give you when you come in with a headache?" I said, "I've never come in with a headache, but Demerol will be fine." If they started seeing me coming with a desperate look in my eyes, like an addict, they'd pull the plug, I'm sure. I hope it doesn't come to that!<br><br>Yes, incidental tumors are a joy!
Posted by katy on 08/22/03 at 05:38 PM
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