Home

I would rather go almost anywhere but there. But, it is time to leave work. My father has already called to see where I am. I wish that they would just let me come home on my own.

Short leash.

Sweet Potato Pie and Nachos

Last week, my father brought damn near a bushel of these humongous sweet potatoes. When I came in from work on Thursday, he told me about them. I could see where the conversation was headed. "Hey, if you have some time this weekend, you mind makin' me some pies?"

Not that cooking is ever the highlight of my day, but how could I resist a request from my Daddy? "Nope. Not a problem," I smiled.

So, early Sunday morning, while everyone else attended church (as I should have) I threw 5 prehistoric size potatoes into the pot to boil them. Gee whiz, it took over an hour for them to soften. When Mama and Daddy came in from church, he smiled. "What are you up to in here?"

"I thought that you wanted some pies?"

"Alright, alright!" he grinned, returning to his bedroom.

"I had a feeling while in church that you were going to start on those pies. How did you find the potatoes?" Ma asked me.

"I don't know. I found them yesterday while looking for something else."

So after hunting and pecking around for about 45 minutes I finally gathered together all of my ingredients. I barely had enough vanilla flavoring. I grew irritated when it came time to make the pie crust. We had neither lard nor shortening. "My crusts are going to be tough," I sighed. But I decided to make due with what I had. Once I added the water to flour and butter mixture, I knew then. The dough was not as soft and fluffy as I would have liked, but it would be ok. I assessed the finished ball of dough. "Ma, this is not enough to make four crusts."

"That is plenty. You make your pie crusts too thick anyway. I like a thin crust."

I frowned as she walked away. Ma likes her pies on crackers. I wrapped the dough in foil and placed it in the refrigerator to rest.

"What are you making Auntie?" my niece asked, bouncing into the kitchen from church.

"Sweet potato pies for Grandpa."

"Ooh!" She stuck her fingers into the mixture.

"Wash your hands!" My sister yelled at her. She rushed to the sink, washed up and resumed her task of licking the beaters dry.

Although I try to avoid cooking at all costs, the pies came out pretty good. Even my sister ate a piece. She hates sweet potato pie.

"I'm making nachos for Jordan. Do you want some?"

"Hecky yeah!"

"Good. You can help me fry them."

Damn! I had been hoodwinked. As my mother reclined at the kitchen table reading the paper, my sister and I set about the task of making nacho chips. I fried them as my sister balled up the dough and then flattened it with the cast iron skillet, cutting them into triangles. 1 1/2 hours later, chips overflowed the cookie sheet.

"I wonder how's Daddy's wine is coming along?"

"Good!" Dee said. She went and got the big pail of fermenting wine, scooping out a few cups, mashing the grapes, its nectar escaping. "I'll put the 'yum yum' back in."

"Just give me the wine," I said, holding out my glass. My mother swooped in, taking the freshly harvested wine and pouring some into an old barbecue sauce bottle. She put it in the freezer. "Hey, who is that for?"

"Your Father."

"How come he gets a whole bottle and I just get a little glass?" She ignored me as she poured yet another glass for my father and one for herself. "Dang, now we're gonna hafta dip some more," I whined.

"Stop being a lush. Besides, drinking too much wine will make you fat," she said as she returned from the family room, retaking her throne at the kitchen table and reading the paper. I think that she gets off on watching my sister and me cook. I know that I would. The tastiest meals are always the ones that you don't have to prepare. "Ooow!" Grease popped me.

I saw a little hand stealthily move out of the corner of my eye. "Jordan, stop stealing chips!" She giggled, running to the protective custody of Grandpa. He was not in the mood to provide sanctuary, for her squeals broke his concentration on the Bears game. "Whoa Jay! Stop all that hollerin'! What are you all doing to her in there?"

"Nothin' Daddy. She's in here stealing chips!" I told him.

"Leave her alone." Jordan returned to the kitchen and made a face of me, letting me know that she had bested me yet again. I lunged for her.

"Leave her alone Claudia! You're going to get her in trouble with Grandpa," my mother scolded me. "Come here Jor." She melted into her grandmother's arms, stopping just short of sticking her tongue out at me.

"Grandma?"

"Yes baby?"

"Do I have to eat the broken chips?"

"What?"

"Auntie said that she's gonna give me all of the little broken chips. I want some big chips too!"

"What? Give her some big chips."

"Ma, I said no such thing!" I fumed. "I'm gonna git you little girl. Your day of reckoning is fast approaching. Once you turn twelve and start doing things that you have no business doing, Auntie will have her due!" Leaning back against the sink as the nachos browned, I smiled pondering the glory of it all.

"Yes, those will be days... My shoes will be polished, my clothes ironed and pressed to perfection. You will wash my car and clean my room. And depending on the seriousness of your infraction, Auntie may even convince you that it would be in your best interest to surrender your allowance." Jordan looked at me, confused. "Oh, you do not understand now, but you will. I'm going to catch you doing everything that you have no business doing. If you don't want me to tell your Mama, you will certainly opt to accept many of the settlement plans that Auntie will present to you at that time."

"Your going to hide her sins from me?" D'mona asked, amazed.

"For the right price, yes."

"Stop blackmailing her Claudia!" Grandma snuggled her close. Jordan primed her crocodile tears. "Pay no attention to Auntie. She will do no such thing." Jordan sneered at me in victory. Leaving Grandma's arms, Jordan passed her little fist before each eye, threatening to blacken each of mine. She grabbed two chips and ran into her bedroom. I ran after her little tail. She had it coming.

"Claudia, I said leave her alone!" Mama said, rising from the chair.

I ran into the family room seeking refuge in my Daddy's arms. "Bobbie, leave her alone. Dawg! What are ya'll doin' in there? It's the fourth quarter!" I made a face at Ma. She walked away.

There is always a higher court.

Saturday

Another Saturday of hanging out at the office, editing the novel. I need a second job. I am not making it on my salary. I detest not having money to at least go out. Once again, a few days before payday I am flat broke. I cannot do this anymore.

But otherwise I am in a decent mood, isolating myself from others who are not. I need to figure out what to do. I know what I should do, but I do not have the heart to do so. I must figure out a way to free myself. I have to be free. I have been locked down for so long. I would like to travel, have a place of my own, perhaps even move to another city or country. But how can I?

Well, I will return to work, escaping into the world of my characters.

2012

I just saw the trailers for the new movie, 2012. I'll be damned if it was not a scene out of the final novel of my chronicles, Le Baton. In the trailer, a man races his home to save his family from he end time destruction, driving them to the landing strip, taking off as the earth engulfs Los Angeles. Wow. In my story, it is New Orleans, along with much of the Midwest which is destroyed, in order to consume Le Baton. In my story, it occurs in 2010. A little different, similar premise. Plagiarism but not.

I have spent the last few years of my life telling a story that has already been told. What was the point? Once again, I come up short with nothing to show for my efforts. It is all pointless.

Better Day

I am finally beginning to come out on the other side. Although a little irritated when leaving home this morning, my agnst has dissipated. Hopelessness is departing. Don't get me wrong, nothing has changed. Still bored, broke and frustrated. However I am hopeful today. I think that the sermon and the word that I received yesterday truly helped me.

I just wish to thank everyone who has prayed for and supported me over the past week. I still have a way to go, but at least I am better for today.

Charles Blanton

I would like to begin by extending my condolences to Raquel Blanton and her family concerning the loss of her Father, Charles Blanton. He was a longtime employee and union man for Electric Motors, since 1969 I believe. But more importantly, Mr. Blanton was a good man, a true provider, father, lover and friend. Raquel and I would always muse that God did not make men like our fathers anymore, who believed in taking care of home and raising families. But I suspect that there are few golden nuggets out there within our own generation, but I fear that they all may have been snatched up!

"Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted."
Matthew 5: 4

In any case, God rest your soul Mr. Blanton. Raquel, our prayers are with you and your entire family. The pastor gave a great eulogy for Mr. Blanton, honoring him while inspiring the living. Dare I say hope is trying to take ahold of me? What is this old soul coming to?

Anyhow, Mr. Blanton enjoyed wrestling. His love for the sport brought reminded pastor of Jacob wrestling with 'a man' all night until he blessed him (Genesis 32:24-32). Although 'the man' crippled his thigh, Jacob continued to hold to him, holding on to hope and faith. Finally, Jacob surrendered to his hope and faith, no longer struggling and wrestling. It was then that God blessed him. Mr. Blanton wrestled to the very end, overcoming Cancer and Diabetes. Although he surrendered to pnemonia, he wrestled to the end, refusing to let go until God blessed him and his family. Raquel I spoke about the moment he gave up(without realizing it), receiving the blessing that he had been waiting on for so long. Once God granted it to him, he let go, surrendering to the Peace, Comfort and Love of Christ.

I should take a note from Jacob and Mr. Blanton.

And to Mr. J Marshall who overheard me griping on the bus to my friends, thank you for the word that you gave me today. I will hold God to his promise. Wow, spooky. Kinda ties into the whole Jacob message. OK... Wow. God, did you really hear me in my time of despair, sending your angel to laugh with me and comfort me? Really folks, he told me to 'hold God to his promise' to make him accountable for what He promised me.

I've been down so long, I am not sure what He promised me anymore.

I do remember He promised a Love for me. A Son for me.

He promised a home for me.

He promised to save me.

He may have promised a ministry for me, but I was not real interested in becoming a preacher. I am sure that I blacked that part out. LOL

Mr Marshall, thanks for sitting in front of me and enduring my foul language today. I praise God that He brought you out of your valley within 6 months.

Perhaps I should lose the bitterness and anger and surrender to God, to hope and faith once more.

Stepping Back from the Edge

I have rallied my resolve to go on. Sorry for trippin' out, but I just could not take it anymore. I am still fighting the urge to skip paying all bills, buying my own laptop and then buying a train ticket to parts unknown, but I know that I do not have the guts to do it.

Besides, I love my family. They are all that I have, the only people in the world who truly love me and have always been there for me. After awhile, I would miss them! I just need some time away, to get my thoughts and plans together... To write... Goodness gracious to get some sleep. I need sleep in a quiet peaceful enviroment. If I could get three days of rest, that would help tremendously.

So today, I won't bitch (although I could). I will bitch another day.

On Saturday, I finished my review of probably 85% of Resurrection. I like it. I just need some quality time to finish it, as with all of the novels. Gee whiz, ideals are just bouncing around in my head and I do not have the time to right them down. I need to finish up the first book, La Rose. It overwhelms me. I cannot tie it all together. But now that I have taken a break, perhaps I can.

Lyric Opera

I'm in the office today, working on one of my novels. Well, making changes. I decided to take a break to go outside and pollute my lungs.

While sitting there, I noticed that there was quite a bit of traffic. A people watcher, I began to notice couples walk by in their finery. Looking south to Washington and Wacker, I spotted three ladies, in the glory of their youth, posing for a photograph. One adorned a beautiful red gown.

I always envisioned myself in red.

Looking about, I found a woman walking with her with her husband, dapper in his tuxedo. She flaunted about in lavender.

"What is happening?" I asked myself. I reviewed my internal calendar. Fourth Saturday of September. I understood. Tonight is the opening night at the Lyric Opera, here in Chicago. Drew, one of my drinking buddies who constructs the sets there, had not even mentioned it. I guess that he did not know that I cared.

Another year has passed and I did not make it there. I always dreamed of attending the opening night performance, and then joining all for the ball which immediately follows. I dream of attending with my love, attired in a deep red velvet dress, mingling... Lela attended the opening night performance of La Traviata in Paris, in my novel. I wonder what will be the performance for this evening? Funny, I did not even think of it until now, once seeing the patrons. I guess that I have been consumed with other more pressing issues.

So now I have returned to my desk, listening to 'I Who Have Nothing' by Sylvester. I'm going to take a nap and then catch my train. I had planned to get on the 6:40, but I cannot face my family right now. I'm tired. Life is passing me by.

Heartache

Yes, that's right folks. There is nothing like a old fool. I never learn, continuing to make the same mistakes over and over. I know better than to take an interest in anyone, well you know a romantic interest. But alas, I did. My friends kept saying that he liked me. I told them no he did not. I was right, as always.

I am just lonely, I suppose. I have learned not to look at any man. I am not sure how I even saw this guy. Well, I guess that I do. In any case, I should know better by now. I know I continue to repeat myself, I guess it is symptomatic of my life in general.

I feel a sinking in the pit of my stomach, thinking of the weekend. I wish that I could skip weekends. It is harder for me to get out. I am tired. I wish that I had somewhere to go asleep. I want to get pissy drunk and pass out, but I cannot. I got to go back to my parents. Can't stay out too late, because they will wait up until I come home. They lock the house down. Then I must endure questions tomorrow about how I'm feeling. I don't know, how do you think I feel? I feel like shit, but I have to keep moving.

So tomorrow, I will come downtown and hang out at the office, working on my book as I have done every weekend since getting kicked out. I don't have any money, so what else can I do? I am grateful that I at least have this place to crash. Then I will go home. Then I will be awakened at 6 am on Sunday. I will sit in the house all day with my family. Then Monday will arrive and I can come back to work, just to repeat the same sad, mundane circle again. It never ends. I feel like sitting here at my desk and screaming until I loose my voice. I feel like crying. Neither would do any good. I will go and have a few drinks and suck it up.

I just wish that it would all end. I am tired.

Auto pilot

Dare I say that I feel better today? Depression is weird, once you're in it, you don't want to let it go. But I am not depressed, just tired, desperately in need of a vacation. I spent some time yesterday checking out vacation hot spots in Paris, Brussels, Seychelles, Mauritius, and other locales around the world. Unless God opens up the floodgates and rain some financial blessings down on me, there is NO WAY I can visit these spots anytime soon. But I did take some comfort just looking at the pictures and dreaming of what it is like to live such a life.

Can you imagine it? A life with no financial concerns? One has money all of the time instead of finding their checking account on empty with payday more than 7 days away? Not living on credit, but on actual money... on wealth? What is it like to receive a bill in the mail and not have to figure out how to pay? One simply sits at their desk and writes the check. No worries about miscalculating the balance in the account, thus causing the check to bounce to high heaven. Just write the check and don't worry about it again. Go to the grocery store and stock up. Go out to dinner with friends, choosing whatever you desire to eat from the menu. Picking up and jaunting out of town for the weekend. Going on worldwind tours. Living life without boundries.

It is a nice dream. But in my case, I must figure out how to make the little money that I have left stretch for two weeks. This sh*t is a drag.

But even while I continue to b*tch, I still manage to do some work on La Rose. It is never ending as well. Maybe I need a break from it. But what else would I do? I am just irritated because I am at a part in the story that I do not enjoy. The characters are enduring some unbelievably bad times right now and things will only get worst before they get any better. Kinda like life itself huh? But things do eventurally improve. It will take about 30 years though.

Yeah, I'm not in the mood to edit this part right now. I think that I will work on Resurrection for awhile and watch Julian be an as*hole.

B*tch and Moan - Day 2

I just got my boss off to the airport. It has been a busy day full of scheduling, screwing up the schedule, fixing the schedule, editing docs, getting breakfast. I'm pooped.

I got paid today. Rather, everyone I owe money to got paid today. I'm broke again.

I really need something new and exciting in my life. Sure, stuff happens to me, but it is usually not enjoyable. I try to make myself and others around me happy by telling jokes and goofing off, but even that is getting old. I have nothing left to give. I realized on the train ride in that I have nothing to look forward to in life... I just work and pay bills. There is nothing tangible to anticipate. Folks around me plan trips and such. I plan them too, simply for other people. Since I cannot live my own dreams, I live vicariously through others.

I dream of having a nice quiet place of my own, to sleep in my own bed, to get up in the morning at my leisure. I am grateful to have somewhere to stay. I guess that I just want my life back. No, I want a better life than what I had before.

In any case, I have plenty to be thankful for. I have a job and I have a place to stay. Most of all, I have somewhere to escape to. The novels are my private little world, watching as Lela navigate the ups and downs of her world. Not that Lela's life is so great (much of it stinks) but I enjoy Beatrice's life (Lela reincarnated, current times). Once Bea meets Octavius, her life definitely takes the turn for the better, that's for sure! I always dream of meeting my Octavius. Wouldn't it be nice to dream up those whom we wish to meet? I guess that we do on some level. I always believed that writers channel souls from other times in space, giving them a voice here in our world.

In any case, I need to get back to work. My lunch break (yes, it's late today) is nearly over. I must finish auditing my bosses expenses and set up book meeting space for them in Florida.

Purgatory

After a couple of weeks passing, I decided to make a post. Not that I have anything new to disclose, but I just felt that I should post something.

Life has been somewhat depressing for me. I have no money, but fortunately I get paid tomorrow. Rest assured that I will be broke by Friday. I have too many bills to pay, many of them not my own. But I thank the Lord that he has provided me with the means to pay them.

My life is the same everyday. I have nothing to look forward to. I find myself unwilling to hope in change. I am ashamed, for there are people in this world who truly suffer and I am glad to say that I am not one of them. I guess that I have been disappointed so much, that I do not wish to believe in impossible dreams. False hope is a killer. Why set myself up for disappointment? What will be will be.

I continue to work on the novel. It is ok. It is way too long, yet again. I have even given up, well that is a strong word, let us say emotionally disconnected myself from it. I have accepted that no one would be willing to take on a work of this size. I am not the best salesperson in the world, that's for sure. So like many other projects close to my heart, I have resolved that the only one who will ever enjoy these books is me.

Kind of sounds like a pity party, huh? Not really. This is where I am today. I just have the whole 'fuck it' attitude, simply grateful that I have a job, a place to sleep and a story to dream of. I don't see the point in fighting anymore, in believing that everything will work out fine.

I do dream of my characters quite a bit, even now. Only my characters comfort me in my loneliness. I have no one to cry to but them.

Maybe that is my problem. I am lonely and now it is starting to seep into all areas of my life. Well, I know this to be the source of my agnst. But who would want me now, all broken down... I have nothing to offer anyone right now. I have no home, no money, kinda overweight, kinda wierd, kinda abrupt in my actions, hot and cold. Who wants to deal with that?

Well, I will check back in, maybe in about a week or so. Hopefully, my indifference will have passed. However, I do not expect that to be the case.

Letting Go

Over the Labor Day weekend I did a little work on the novel, adding another two chapters. Oye. What am I trying to achieve here? I'm not quite sure anymore. I am rounding out the story. That is it. But can there be too much 'rounding?' For real.... If I told everything, this book would be over 2,000 pages. So, I am only trying to include information that will... I don't know. Just going on gut instinct here.

I wish that I could go somewhere for about a month (minimum two weeks) where I can just focus on the novel. Writing after work and on weekends is not working at this point. I really need to assess what I have here. I find it difficult to do. I am exhausted, distracted and stressed out. These factors are making it very difficult for me to tell this story in a concise matter. I really just need a good night's rest. I think that would help me in several areas of my life.

New Life

After splitting La Fleur in two, I am finding that it is taking on a new life of its own. There is more explanation as to what is going on, instead of allowing much of it to remain in the shadows, leaving it for the reader to figure out. I am not sure how I feel about this. I kind of enjoyed the mystery of it all. It is still there, but different somehow.

It seems to be going in many different directions, headed for a common end. Once I finish, I will sit down and read it (hopefully without the aid of my red pen). I believe that it will flow well.

I have been considering self publishing. However, I am not much of a saleswoman so I am sure if it would be wise to do so. I am still receiving rejection notices and my hopes are waning on a publisher picking up the novel. In any case, I could sell a few copies to friends and family who are interested in reading it. I am still mulling it all over.

Well, back to work!

Workload

Writing daily has become a challenge. Either I'm bogged down with work, uninspired or just emotionally drained. For the past week, I have been so busy, that I cannot write after work. If do get a few moments, I find that my thoughts are scattered... I have to reread what I have written in an effort to unify with the tale once again. I have also started going to the gym... I am so tired. I feel as if I am being pulled in 40 different directions.

I think that I am also distressed because one of the storylines that I have added back in does not seem to flow well. I think that I am more concerned with length. I don't know. I am just confused right now. Perhaps I should take a break.

There is just too much story to tell. Everyone wants me to tell their full story. Anton, Claude, Chantelle, Isabel, Gosh they are all driving me nuts. I cannot tell everyone's saga in one book. So I must decide, should I just write the book, or should I write something that a publisher would be willing to take on?

I know, we have visited this question many times before, but for real? I have put so many years into this. I cannot not tell the story, though. Maybe I should just self-publish the novel that I wish to write and sell to those who are interested. That may be my best bet. I cannot cut it again. That is probably the reason why I am struggling so. I am not being true to my characters. I have become more interested in making a buck (which they should all know that I desperately need). But sometimes when you follow your heart, it will lead you to your heart's desire, n'est pas?

Well, I've been following my heart all of these years. Why be rational and stop now? I will do it my way, as I have traditionally done.

Containing the Beast

Novels within a novel... That is what it has become. I don't know what to do anymore. I guess that I will just go with it. Two new stories are unfolding for 2 other characters... I knew that the stories were there... But once again, I worry that it is too much detail to contain in one novel. I have already split it once.

I cannot worry about it. See, I am still trying to write within the constraints of what an imaginary audience/publisher might enjoy. I'm just going to write it.

But when does it end? I guess that it is over when it is over. Gee whiz, I don't see how I'm going to keep this under 200K words.

Scattered - Day Two

Ugh. This is not going so well. I am considering removing the scenes that I just re-inserted. At this rate, I will be at 300K words again. Well maybe not. There is just too much to say and I am trying to be consciencious of my word count.

On the train this morning, I remember the words of one of my Snuggery buddies. "Claudia, write the book that you want to write." Ray told me that. He's right. I think that I am trying to mold my work so that I can publish it. Perhaps I should return to my first love and just write the story. Hell, either someone will pick it up or they won't. If it is good, will it not sell itself to the right publisher anyway?

I am not sure why I am so concerned with publishing anyway. It is a distraction. This is where my problem lies. I cannot write for the market. I am only required to write the story.

Scattered

My energy, my focus is scattered. Did you ever have one of those days, weeks or months?

I know what I should do, and that is focus on completing the edit of La Rose. Then I am distressed on what to add in, leave out or take out. Then I am being bombarded by passages for the other novels, ALL OF THEM. To top it off, I have to do my job. It is a challenge to focus on my work because all of my characters are talking to me. I have to tell them to wait a minute. When I get the minute what do I hear? Silence!

Ugh! Look guys, if you wish for me to spend all my time with you, you need to make me wealthy so that I do not have to work! LOLLOL

I know, I'm nuts. I never told anyone otherwise.

Sha-La-La

My All Time Favorite Al Green cut. I am an Al Green fanatic. He speaks to my heart and soul.

Absent

I have been so busy at work. I can find little time to do anything else, including posting to this blog. Needless to say, I have done very little on La Rose as well.

It is so strange refering to the novel as La Rose. I wear a charm rose on a gold chain about my wrist. On August 1st, right after I split the book, the charm broke in two. I was devestated, but it was symbolic in a way. Now, I wear both pieces on the chain. When I look at it, my heart aches that I have split my child in two, but at the same time I am comforted. The girls needed to be seperated so that they may both have the opportunity to express themselves fully.

Divided

The incision was painless, the surgery, a success. Both patients are doing well, resting comfortably under their new titles. Although apart, they are still one in spirit, stretching and growing into the own, but still one heart.

LOL... Yes, I split the novel today. I think the final word count for La Rose, (formally book one of La Fleur) will come in between 170-175,000 words. We will see for La Fleur(Book two).

I am very excited, but melancholy at the same time. However, I think that it will be better this way. We will see.

A New Day Dawns

One more day before I begin my re-write. I am very excited about it. At the same time, I fear that I will find myself in the same boat with a high word count.

Well, it is what it is. The word count will be higher than average, but it will not be 325,000 words. I am looking forward to building out a few storylines in both novels, but especially in the second novel, La Fleur. I always felt that I had skimped on Josephine's and Robert's story in a way. I believe that I will reorganize a few chapters at the end. I have a habit of telling the back story as a memory. Perhaps now, I can incorporate some things in as live action.

-Snicker- I have already begun to write some of the inserts. Is that cheating? LOL I know, I am pretty excited about a process that many writers dread. But I see it as an opportunity to make the story even better than before. I knew that this needed to be done, as I said in an earlier post, but I would not do it. Now, I am happy that I have finally submitted. Wow, two books for one!

La Rose, La Fleur, Parteth!

Re-write: 3 Days and Counting

Ooooweh! I am so excited. I feel like a surgeon. I am going to split the novel like the Red Sea, creating two out of one. I would prefer to leave it as a single edition, but I must be practical and reasonable. It is two books. I even experienced difficulty writing the query and the synopsis (which I have yet to do) because of this fact. Maybe it is just ego in a way (I did not even know that I possessed an active one) that encourages me to leave it as one work.

So, I have written a ending for the Book I, renamed La Rose for now, where Lela is clearly the main character. Book II will retain the name La Fleur which will focus on Josephine's life. Now I can add back in a few things that I had edited out due to my concerns regarding word count. Oye, I may end up back in the same boat again!

Yup, this may actually work out. I'm going to finish up a few details with Samantha and Resurrection, and then re-emerse myself in my first love.

Re-write Approacheth

Beginning August 1st, I will commence my 6th or 7th formal re-write of La Fleur. I have decided to split it into two novels, a Book I and Book II. Still tossing around the titles... I think they will be La Rose, Book I Le Baton Series. The second half will be La Fleur, Book II Le Baton Series. It may make a bit more since, since Lela is La Rose and Josephine is La Fleur. Still thinking about it though. We will see what August 1st brings!

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Feel Good Friday

Today is kinda weird. It started off weird. Nothing bad happened... I don't really know how to explain it. It feels like Bizarro World.

So I wake up early, shower, dress and leave home. Traffic seemed light, but it was not. I arrive at the train station and find a lot of parks. Cool. I board the train, relatively empty... I get a whole seat to myself. I get off of the train, Union Station traffic about average. I run into a friend from the train and chat for a few minutes on the river side of the CME building (oh, and did I mention that the train was early? Wow!). Crossed Washington Street by the Opera House... no cars or people... continue on and arrive at the office, on time.

Like I said, it is nothing bad. Life just feels a bit different. That is it. Everything feels different than it did last night.