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Trying to Work While My Uterus Slowly Kills Me

As I am writing this I am laying in bed with killer cramps trying to concentrate on getting this done. My attention is divided between my computer and a video by Kate Cavenaugh playing in the background, my way of overloading my brain with sensory information in the hopes to overpower my cramps with sheer thought. This doesn’t work very well as someone who suffers from polycystic ovarian syndrome as well as endometriosis. Nevertheless, I am pushing through the pain, maybe naively, to get some work done.

Work is one of those things that is always in the forefront of my mind. With the recent sudden burst of visibility, my job as a writer has only become more cemented as my career. This is exciting, but also overwhelming due to the fact that it came to be so fast with little to no warning. As a result, I’ve found myself in a sort of panic to reestablish a routine, only to have it nullified by new occurrences whether they be work-related or life-related. It’s been stressful and oddly exhilarating to the point that I’ve found myself often lost in a stupor of possibility.

Work has been moving steadily and following a pattern that I definitely assumed it would. I’m not surprised to find that my own novel writing is taking up most of my time as my current project, Pixie Dust, comes to a close and I prepare to begin a new project as well as pick up Angel Boy, the effective sequel to Pretty Boy. All the while I am still reading heavily, but for maybe obvious reasons finding that I’m continuously prioritising novel-writing over review-writing. I’ve recently finished reading The Mist by Stephen King and am currently reading I Can’t Date Jesus by Micheal Arceneaux and I Wish You All the Best by Mason Deaver (which I’ve been very excited for and received early this morning. A whole day early!). Reviews for those won’t come for quite a while, because of the backlog of reviews I have to write, not only for books but for films (I saw Pokemon: Detective Pikachu this passing weekend and you bet I’m writing a review).

To be entirely I honest, I had written down a considerably long list of things I wanted to write about in this update, but due to my mangled uterus making me just want to lay down and revert into a catatonic state, I feel like it is best to wrap it up here. Less so because I want to, more so because my body is an asshole and telling me too.  

Writing After a Long Haitus

So, I’ve pretty much been on hiatus since the end of November 2018 and only really got back to work the last week of February 2019. I can’t remember the last time a took such a long hiatus where I didn’t do any writing. Even during my prior lulls, I wrote something.

I admit I was a much more organized writer when I was in high school, often writing instead of, well listening (this never affected my grades and that’s probably why teachers just let me continue doing it…); then at the beginning of 2018 I not only became an organized writer but a prolific one. I wrote every day, even if was just some sort of horrible flash fiction, but I wrote. I’ve always been a huge fan of Ray Bradbury and took his advice to write every day to heart. But then, well life happened. And even though life didn’t really stop me from writing– in fact, I still managed to write during the early days of that period– I eventually stopped. It would be months before I picked up the pen again and wrote something I felt to be substantial. Something that made me feel as though I had written something.

There are two things that really helped me get through this period, things I feel still preserved my love for writing while making sure my “writing-muscle” didn’t wither away to nothing (it atrophied, but not to the degree it could have).

The first of these things has to be I got back into reading. I never stopped reading, but I was reading substantially less than I’m proud to admit. I still feel I sort of am. Only now am I really catching up on what’s going on in the traditional literary world (last year I tended to spend more time on independent literature, which isn’t bad but I believe in diversifying as much as possible). I hadn’t read a physical book in a long time I forgot how good it felt. Don’t get me wrong, I love my Kindle but sometimes you just need to feel those crisp pages and smell the ever-enchanting new-book-smell. I’ve read ten books so far this year and am currently reading My Hero Academia, Vol. 6 by Kohei Horikoshi and Girls of Paper and Fire by Natasha Ngan. Both of which I am very much enjoying.

The second thing that helps is actually writing, but not in the literary sense (at least I don’t consider it literary). Recently I’ve gotten back into writing in a journal consistently again. In the past, journalling has been my primary coping mechanism when things got hard; and even when things aren’t that hard I find it simply helps me get out all those negative emotions that build up inside. Because, let’s be honest, no matter how hard you try there is always some sort of negativity trying to make its way into your mind. Everyone has ways of dealing with it, and currently, the healthiest way for me to get it out is writing it down in a stream of consciousness style. These journals will probably never be put in a memoir or something because of the way they are written; because if you know me then you know I am a scatterbrain so most of what I’ve written doesn’t quite make sense. Even now, in this more formal format, I am finding it difficult to write coherently, because apparently my ability to do so is reserved for when I’m working on a literary piece. (And– this being totally off topic– but is literary the right word? For some reason, it sounds pretentious to me but, like it just means “pertaining to writing, studying, etc.”)

Anyway… I’m writing again! Currently, I’m not particularly proud of anything I’ve written but I feel as though I’m simply just getting back into the groove. As of right now, I am working on Pixie Dust which I’m hoping will become available in July this year, though may actually be coming out earlier. Please note that the original NaNoWriMo version was scrapped due to my disdain for the original. When I picked it up to write again, of course, I changed it quite a bit to fit what I currently feel like writing. As usual, aspects of the original were not thrown away, but are being set aside for potential “recycling.”

Hopefully, I can stay at the pace I’ve been working in for a while because it has definitely helped my moral substantially. I’m not going to lie though, I’m definitely addicted to caffeine again as a result…