Why We Won’t Be Living in Our Tiny House.

It’s been a strange few weeks, to say the least.

I’ve had to remind myself more than once that I owe nothing of myself or the details of my life to anyone on the Internet – nice people or mean people. You all leave comments, and then go about your business not thinking much of my own life. And nor should you! I don’t spend a lot of time thinking of other people’s decisions in my own day-to-day business. I have my own life to lead.

I still feel compelled to write down and publish the long list of reasons we won’t be living in our tiny house. For posterity, for my own sake, and really for anyone who has a genuine, sincere interest in our continued story. And maybe some of these points might help some of you in your own tiny house journey.

Many people think we’re selling our tiny house because it was stolen from us, and that we’re letting fear dictate our lives. (Anyone who knows us in real life finds the idea that Casey and I let fear controls our lives endlessly humorous). In reality, the theft was more of a tipping point than some singular catastrophic event that upturned everything.

1) We just can’t do this anymore. People who haven’t been through the process of building anything, even a so-called “tiny house”, simply do not understand the realities of construction. I only half-joke that the thing that makes tiny building so difficult is that there is just enough space to finally get a partial handle on whatever step of the process you are undertaking – and then that step is over. You never build up any momentum to carry the task out faster and better. Because the space is so small, it’s time to start from square one on the next step of the process before you even reap the benefits of having mastered the previous step. It’s not very satisfying to work this way. People say: “Oh, you’ve come so far! You’re so close to finishing!” No, we really, really aren’t. We’ve been “so close” to finishing nearly every month for the last two and a half years.

2) Where would we put the house now? There are many indications that the area in which we live had to do with the theft. I won’t go into details, but despite some VERY lovely neighbors, we also have some not-so-lovely neighbors, and to put the house back where it was parked seems to only invite the theft or damage once again. Some idiot asked me on Facebook if my apartment was broken into, would I just break my lease and move somewhere else? And the answer is: absolutely I would, if I thought the location of my apartment had something to do with the theft itself. This is so bleeding obvious I can’t believe he asked it. Welcome to the Internet.

We spent a long time looking for land that would allow a tiny house to be parked on it, and I have no desire to go back through that process again. Also, now that we have an apartment very close to all the places we need to be, it’s made me realize how nice it is not to face a 50 minute commute each way just to get to civilization. The unfortunate part of tiny houses is that the one place you can be relatively assured* no one will call the local zoning boards on you is the countryside. And living in the countryside means you have to enjoy driving unless you plan to spend all your time at home.

*I say “relatively assured” because Jonathan had issues even in the countryside. He ended up not living in tiny house, either. A lot of people (people who stand to make money off the tiny house movement itself) say things like “If you build it, the parking space will come.” This was the cavalier attitude I took at the start of the process. Once we started the build, we began to look for a place to park it. We looked at RV parks and were turned away (no homemade trailers allowed), we looked at unrestricted land that was way too big and too expensive, then we finally found a small rural neighborhood that seemed fine just to have it turn out that our house was stolen…all this to say that if you are thinking of building a tiny house on wheels, weigh the risks. If you can afford to build a tiny house and like being adventurous with the idea that you’ll find a place to put it “later,” by all means, do so. Otherwise, sincerely do your research before jumping in feet first to an expensive, time-consuming build.

3) The potential for theft. This is a small reason, but a reason nonetheless. I just can’t live wondering if my tiny house and its contents is going to be there when I get home from work or from play. Despite the new anti-theft measures we’ve put in (boots on the trailer, and a mega hitch lock), I just can’t. Once I had a stomach bug and happened to eat chili and noodles right before the symptoms started. Cue vomiting up chili and noodles all night. Despite the fact that technically the chili and noodles did not cause my illness, it put me off chili and noodles for life. All this to say: I’m not blaming the tiny house. But I still associate it with theft. For anyone reading this deciding on their own build, I’d say the only location I’d feel comfortable parking my house is in the suburbs somewhere: in someone’s backyard, behind a fence, with many, many neighbors around, and preferably some large trees that grow back over the tow-path. But then I’d have to live in the suburbs, and that’s just not for me. Also, finding a suburb like that is easier said than done. Dee Williams, in her super-progressive, liberal, Washington state town STILL had to get a special variance that allowed her and only her to be parked there, in that very particular space. If you have the stomach to go through a process like that, more power to you.

4) Our lifestyle has changed. The build was initially going to be 4-6 months in length. It’s taken 2.5 years, for various reasons that aren’t anyone’s business, but really came down to time and money. Since it’s taken so long, our lives have changed. We simply need more space – not for living, but for our businesses and creative endeavors. Our property had a little cabin on it that we were going to use as a studio. We can’t live on that land any longer for safety reasons, so the thought of having to come up with a solution to another accessory building in a new location is just too much. It’s ludicrous, when we could just have a larger apartment (650 s.f.) that’s already constructed (!!!!!) with plenty of space for our needs.

5) Our priorities have changed. Our main goal has always been to live in a place where we can be car-lite or car-free. Coincidentally, the week before the tiny house was stolen, we came up with a solid plan of where we want to live (next, anyway) without a car. The plan was three to four years more living in the tiny house, then moving elsewhere to a city where we can be active without a car. The house was stolen, and suddenly it looked like our plan could be moved up on the timeline.

6) I’ve spent the last 18 months trying to decide if I’m a country person or a city person. The answer appears so obvious to me now, I feel a little silly even asking the question. I hate driving and I love museums, libraries, public transit, good food, biking trails, parks, and concerts. Period. That makes me a city person at this point in my life. I realize now that I was actually spending the last 18 months trying to convince myself that I was okay living out in the middle of nowhere. I’m not okay with it at this point in my life.

7) I don’t want to compress my expectations any longer. Some people live in a tiny house because it truly makes their lives more simple, yet it gives them space to do the things they want to do. I realize now that the tiny house had reached a point that it was restricting our lives and our expectations. Again: it took us further away from city living and honestly, it put me in a mindset of not just extreme frugality (which is great!) but of extremely low income-making. Maybe I’ll expound on this another day, but essentially I convinced myself that making an exceedingly small amount of money was good enough for me, and it isn’t. I was trying to shrink my life and my goals. I was feeling a little suffocated. I’m not saying having a tiny house does this to everyone – it was just doing it for me.

8) A tiny house is not the only answer. Some people seem to think that not living in a stick-built, tiny house on wheels means “giving up the tiny lifestyle.” I realize now how silly I was to think a tiny house was the only way to live simply. It’s not. I don’t even know what living simply means, to be honest with you. Building a tiny house and trying to live in one in 2015 means you are a pioneer. There aren’t enough of them yet to have changed public perception, zoning laws, or local codes. There is huge risk in living in mostly uncharted territory. And we need people trying to do it! I just can’t be one of them. My energy needs to be spent elsewhere. Fighting the tide is not simple. It is easier to have a mortgage and a 9-5 job than it is to live in a tiny house and be self-employed. Depending on how you look at it, the former is the real “simple life” in 2015. A case can be made for both sides.

To “not fight the tide” doesn’t mean we are off to live in a 6,000 s.f. house in the suburbs (though there is NOTHING WRONG with that if you do; it simply doesn’t fit for us). It means we are channeling our energy elsewhere, toward goals that mean more to us.

We are not giving up. We are not fickle people. I think giving up would look like staying with our build even though we know it can’t work for us any longer. For us to say: “Okay, we came this far, even though every fiber of our being is telling us this is no longer the direction we want to go, we need to see it through no matter the cost” would be giving up in my book.

We are constantly re-examining where we are going and what we are doing, and I think that’s what makes us awesome. So many people continue to commit to things that are no longer working for them, and end up on their deathbed wishing they’d taken more risks. Even though this process has been almost nothing but stress and pain, I’d rather be sitting where I am now, having tried to build a tiny house and deciding it wasn’t for me after all, than to have never tried at all and be sitting around the rest of my life doodling floor plans in the margins and wondering if I was ever going to take the leap.

ADDENDUM: I just went back to read Jonathan’s post (mentioned above) from years ago, and the similarities in our situations are eerie in many ways. This sums it all up for me, almost to the letter:

“Even if I win, I will still be next to a neighbor who hates me. Even if I win, I will be 10 miles away from the nearest grocery store. Even if I win, I will be both physically and socially isolated, far enough away from everyone nearby to where visiting me is inconvenient, but not far enough away to where I’ll be compelled to seek out new things. I’ll be in an area in which the population is politically and ideologically at odds with my own morals and values. I will, in essence, become a hermit here.”

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Our house was recovered on January 2nd, thanks to the power of social media!!! It was intact. A very strange story indeed. When I am able to share the details, I will. Thank you all for your support!


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Grieving as An Atheist.

Hi everyone! My name is Jessica, and I am atheist.

Quick primer on what this means: I hold no belief in any kind of God, gods, or creator of the universe. The end.

Being atheist means nothing more or nothing less that this. It imbues me with no other characteristics. Atheists have no creed, mission statement, or set of common rules attached to atheism. There are nice atheists and mean atheists, short atheists and tall atheists, mustachioed atheists and clean shaven atheists. Just like there are mean people and nice people, etc. We have no code to live by as a result of being atheist. We have to find morality elsewhere, outside of religion. (And it’s easy to do; actually easier than parsing through a holy text to find what is right and what is wrong. I could dedicate an entire book to this singular topic).

Really, the word atheist shouldn’t exist. There is no word for people who don’t collect stamps or people who do not participate in roller derby. But the status quo at this point in time is holding a belief in one deity and/or another, so the word atheist is necessary to distinguish those who are different from the societal norm.

The last week and a half has been devastating. But the loss of our tiny house is not the only bad thing that’s happened to me over the last few years. I’ve suffered through a lot in a short amount of time, just like a lot of people. I wanted to address a common question that is offered to atheists: “How do you grieve without God?”

I realized I was atheist in September of 2012. The last few years have been stressful emotionally, physically, and financially. I have a chronic illness that I deal with on a daily basis. I’ve lost personal relationships. I’ve had financial losses. I’ve watched bad things happen to the people I love.

I also suffered through terrible events when I was Christian. I feel like I have solid comparative material of experiencing grief both as a religious person and a non-religious person.

I prefer grieving as an atheist.

Let me rephrase that: I strongly, absolutely much, much, much prefer grieving as an atheist. Grieving as an atheist is not only preferable, I actually suffer less now than I did before as a Christian.

When I was Christian and something bad happened, I had to stop and ask myself a lot of unanswerable questions. Questions like “Why me?” and “Why would a benevolent God do this?” and “What is the purpose of this pain?” and “Why has this test been put in front of me and what am I meant to learn from it?”

There was a lot of handwringing. A lot of misery, to be honest. Where many people find solace in religion, I find pain and discomfort.

Here’s what grieving looks like as an atheist: I go through all the same stages of grief that I did as a Christian, in varying order. I’ve been in denial, and anger. There’s bargaining, just not with God. And depression, and acceptance too. And back again.

All through these steps, I do my best to move forward. I take action. I don’t need to pray. I don’t need to meditate on it. I don’t need to wonder what things I did or didn’t do to deserve what came to me, I don’t need to divine some kind of meaning from the meaningless. I don’t need to wonder why this particular burden was “given” to me, because I know now that it wasn’t given to me. Bad things happens sometimes. That’s all.

I use the energy I used to expend on prayer and trying to fight my cognitive dissonance to take action to better my life.

I prefer grieving as an atheist. I don’t judge those who find solace in their faith. I just don’t find solace there.

When I need more comfort, I turn to Carl Sagan. Some people find the vastness of the universe terrifying. I find it comforting. Because I realize that nothing in the universe is trying to show me anything. The universe is not trying to teach me a lesson.

It simply exists, in the same exact way that I exist. The universe does not grieve as I grieve.

I don’t need it to.

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Every New Beginning is Some Other Beginning’s End.

EDIT on January 4, 2014: Our house was recovered on January 2nd, thanks to the power of social media!!! It was intact. A very strange story indeed. When I am able to share the details, I will. Thank you all for your support!

Radio silence over here for a few weeks. I originally wasn’t going to write about this, but it’s me, and I write about everything.

Our tiny house was taken from us last week. Stolen. Gone. Gone tiny house. Gone. You can read the whole post, the whole story over at my husband Casey’s blog.

I have some great readers on this site, but just to fend off the inevitable trolls: If you feel like posting anything resembling advice on what we should have done to prevent this from happening, DON’T. I will delete your comment. If you want to go to your own site and compose a separate article with ideas for tiny house loss prevention so you can foster discussion, please, go ahead and do that there. Not here. I don’t want advice. The horse is out of the barn. Don’t tell me I should have locked the doors or put up security cameras or stuck a GPS up the horse’s asshole. The people who took our house were determined, and they had all the time in the world to make this theft happen. If someone wants to take something: they can. There are bad, bad people out there. Sometimes they do bad stuff.

Also, if you have questions involving the tiny house, please read my husband’s post first. I think he answers most of them. If you read the post and STILL have a question, I’ll be happy to answer it.

It’s been a devastating week, but we’re not ones for dwelling. We are moving on as best we can. We are getting an apartment this weekend. We’re making it our home as quickly as we can. New bed! A real live sofa! A garden on the balcony! We’re making time for all of the things we’ve put off over the last three years of this grueling, grueling process. We’ve put off our friends, our hobbies, our free time, our health, and our budget. Ironically, all of the things that were the main reasons for building the tiny house in the first place were the things that were the first to go while we were building.

The last three years have been more stressful than I can adequately articulate, but they have not been a total loss. Casey has built up his business so he can work anywhere in the world. Our relationship is strong. I don’t know why we’re still married when so many other people who build houses don’t make it. I guess it’s our communication and our stubbornness. And also the fact that we got married knowing that we both were choosing to love each other. There was no fairy tale involved. We made a choice to love each other and be on the same team, and we continue to make that choice.

I also realize now that a tiny house can just be another “object” that can be used an excuse to put off living your life. It’s no better than that elusive perfect weight, or haircut, or sports car, or suburban home. You don’t need a tiny house to have a garden. You don’t need a tiny house to have more time to spend with your friends. You don’t need a tiny house to spend less money, or have less stuff, or have a lower electric bill. You can do all of these things where you are, right now. If there is one thing I can implore you to do, it is to examine your own lives. What have you been putting off because things aren’t “just right” for beginning? Begin them now. Don’t allow an object to get in your way. Just begin.

Casey ended his own post so eloquently: to go out and follow your dreams because we are both rooting for all of you. I just wanted to add that our own dreams are not extinguished. We are moving on from tiny houses and the tiny house community (such as it is), but a tiny house was not our only dream. It was a means to an end. We have always had bigger dreams, and those dreams are not by any means dead. The loss of this one dream means moving up other dreams on the timeline. It’s a dim silver lining at this point in time, but I’ll take it.

Thank you all for your support over the last three years! I’ll still be here. You’ll have to stick around to see what kind of beginning this end has created.

Go forth and live!


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Open Writing. Year 1. Month 1. Day 8.


This is how I will refer to it from now on: SCRIVENER! because a program this awesome deserves all caps and an exclamation point.

This is the application that has lifted about 800 pounds off of my shoulders. Where before I had a single Evernote document with a mixed bag of scenes that was a horror to sift through, I now I have SCRIVENER! And SCRIVENER! allows me to divide my scenes up so easily.

You know what else is easy? They have a built in word count target meter counter thingy. Which I didn’t realize until a bit of the ways through my editing, but this is AWESOME. It will keep track of how many words I’ve deleted, how many I’ve added, AND you can even set daily goals. Even better, you can put in a project deadline, then check how many days per week you want to write, and it will tell you how many words you need to write each day.

So I have no word count for today because I copy-pasted from Evernote and SCRIVENER! thinks I wrote 57,000 words yesterday. I really wrote like thirty, because I was too busy dividing my book up into scenes. I still only know how to use about 2% of the program, but that’s okay because even 2% of SCRIVENER! is better than no SCRIVENER! at all.

The goal for Day 9 is finishing up segmenting the book and then getting 1600 words out to get back on track.

On my mind: SCRIVENER!


Dean Wesley Smith wrote a great post talking about not beating yourself up over not meeting your word count. The TL;DR is basically: the number is arbitrary anyway, so be happy with all you’ve accomplished and just keep moving forward.

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Open Writing. Year 1. Month 1. Days 4-7.

Daily word count: ZERO.

Oh noes.

It’s okay, though. I was killing myself with tiny house stuff, helping Casey finish up a few projects, and most importantly BLUE GENIE. I sewed up some little wallets, which sounds like it was the simplest thing ever and not a huge learning curve process with cursing and tearing out fabric. It looks like I actually sold a few things at Blue Genie this last weekend, which is huge and awesome considering I raised my prices by about 50% and it scared the crap out of me to do so. It really came down to: do I want to lose money and keep doing this? Or earn money and keep doing this?

Writing! Back to writing.

I spent all of my energy on doing all of these things, and this is where I will rant, briefly. A lot of people say things like “I cram in 20 minutes of writing between my six full-time jobs, running a farm, and raising my twelve children, so if I can write every day SO CAN YOU!” Over the last year, the phrase “If I can do it, so can you,” has become my least favorite in the world. Looking at me, you would assume that I am a vibrant, young woman overflowing with energy. I don’t look sick. Even I forget sometimes. But I do have a chronic illness, and I do not have the energy of a typical 25 year old. I manage to do quite a few things, but I cannot do them all. I needed a few days off for my health and sanity; I had to put down one ball and this time it was writing. Long story short: everyone is different, we all make choices. /rant

Good news! Casey bought me Scrivener! I’m excited to dive in and organize my book.

Words to date: 5271

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Open Writing: Year 1. Month 1. Day 3.

It occurs to me that I’m doing too much.

I woke up today with a plan to do some sprints of sorts with my to-do list by setting my timer and working for ten and twenty minute segments at a time on: knitting, cleaning, Jack Friday stuff (sewing), and writing. So I  have clean sheets and clothes, making it several inches on a sweater sleeve, and sewing a prototype for a new product. And I also am carrying around a big pile of exhaustion. This is one of those days where my body reminds me that I cannot do everything I used to be able to do. Just completing these few things completely wiped me out.

Casey was transferring my stuff to my brand new, price-mistake-on-MacMall Macbook Air and I didn’t have access to a computer for part of the day, so I put off writing until night time when I was completely exhausted. I also was putting it off because like I mentioned yesterday, I’m really at the point where I need a good program to help me edit. Or is this an excuse? I don’t totally know.

7:30 PM I managed to finally get to the computer. I started from the very beginning of this manuscript, reading every excruciating word and trying to hold in the urge to erase the first third of my novel. Not that I’m saying the rest of it is Pulitzer-worthy or anything, but damn if I haven’t improved since those opening scenes. Wow. Amazing what 45,000 words of experience will do.

I started editing out some things and probably lost close to three hundred words before I realized I was working against my own word count for the day. I puzzled over this for a solution and hit upon, for now, bolding any words/sentences/paragraphs that need to go and leaving them to be deleted another day. I’m not close enough to my final draft to start pulling them out entirely. I still have maybe 10% of scenes that need to be written, plus ALL transitions. Right now, it’s just a ton of cleanup.

The biggest issue is that when I started writing, I literally only had the idea of dolls on doorsteps and a heroine with endometriosis and that was it. So the characters have changed a bit since my first word-vomit. One big difference is that one character changed from being Patrick Dempsey in my head to Jesse Williams. And with that his personality changed a bit as well. Then I had new story ideas as I went along, so certain sentences no longer apply. I finally know who Marion Sinclair really is, I think. And I need to change her early behavior to reflect that more clearly.

It’s hard to slog through these words and layer in more because it’s a much slower process than just word-vomiting it all up, but I got it done despite my exhaustion and overall anxiety.

1752 words today, folks, though I think it was actually closer to 2000 what with the deletions. Live and learn!

On my mind: Perfection.

Trying really hard not to delete whole scenes. Leaving them as-is as much as possible and just changing ideas where they no longer make sense.

I do feel though that once I have a few books under my belt my first drafts will get cleaner. I’m still learning how exactly to build a story!

Words this month: 5271.

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Open Writing: Year 1. Month 1. Day 2.

Day 2! The day that I realized that my time with The Dolls of Harper’s End is coming to a close. I sat down today and did the thing I really didn’t want to do: make a timeline and nail down the events of Dolls. I was terrified to do this, terrified to actually make a decision on when and how things happen, but I felt much better when it was done.

It’s funny how I’ve been afraid of my own story, like I didn’t have 100% control over what happens when I actually obviously do. I mean, I’m making the whole thing up. Sometimes I hear a little critic voice pop up in my head that says “That doesn’t make sense!” And I literally reply to that voice: “Fuck off, it’s my story.”

I knocked my writing first thing in the morning. 1,712 words.

Now I’m at the point where I need to start cutting text and layering in transitions; it scares me to think about my word count for the story going down, but the time has come.

On my mind: Scrivener!

I just found out about Scrivener, writing software that helps you organize your book (as well as format it for e-publication), and I am definitely interested in buying it. I made a deal with myself that I couldn’t buy it until I sewed a few more things for Blue Genie.

Oh, the games I play for productivity.

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Open Writing: Year 1. Month 1. Day 1.

I keep mentioning Dean Wesley Smith to anyone who will listen.

He does a series on his blog called “Writing in Public” that I really enjoy; he’s basically keeping a daily word count for all of his writing: emails, blog posts, and fiction. I really love that, so I thought I’d do my own version here (not sure I have it in me to keep track of email writing).

NaNo was hugely successful for me for a few reasons. 1) I was afraid of failing publicly. 2) I’m really competitive with myself and with others. 3) I had a visual graph to look at every single day. The last one was huge. Catching that grey line on the graph was intensely motivating for me. I thought I would challenge myself to another 50k this month, and keep track of it using a spreadsheet. Only problem is that I have zero patience with making spreadsheets, even though I love their utility. I googled a bit and found this tutorial. Perfect.

Here’s the link to my Google spreadsheet for my monthly word count. Thanks to my favorite day of the year (New Year’s Eve!) December has an extra day. This means my minimum is a measly 1,613 per day. Easy enough to hit. I can do about 1k words every twenty minutes on average. So only thirty-five minutes of writing a day.

Yesterday I woke up, ate breakfast and managed through three twenty-minute timers to get 1807 words typed on The Dolls of Harper’s End, my first novel and the one that I worked on throughout NaNo.

This was huge for me to write today, since it’s my most intense pain day of the month. I really did not feel well. It would have been really easy for me to not write at all, but I didn’t want to lose momentum from the final 4k day of writing I managed for the finale of NaNo.

Mostly: I don’t trust myself to take a day off. One day turns into two, and then three, and then it’s easy to not write at all. This segues nicely into the main topic that’s on my mind this morning.

On my mind: Creating Habits.

The name of the game this month is consistency. Throughout NaNo I basically wrote in huge spurts (up to 6k on some days), then I would take four days off with zero or almost zero writing. This month, I want to stick to my daily minimum, and stick to it every single day without taking days off; if I make it past my minimum that’s great, but no more writing 6k words and then justifying taking time off after that. If I write 6k one day, I still have to do 1613 the next day.

I want to build the habit of writing and see how that grows throughout the month.

Today’s Fiction Word count: 1807. Total on Dolls so far: 52,118.

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Winner, Winner Chicken Dinner.


I am beyond excited (I made Casey look at every single “Winner” badge pinned to my ID and profile for about five minutes), but I’d be even more so if the book were 100% done. But as it stands, I am at the point where I need to organize scenes so I know what’s missing and I didn’t want to waste time doing that when I had a word count to meet for NaNo.

My new goal is to finish writing and editing The Dolls of Harper’s End by December 31st, 2014.

A few things: I only had 33k four days ago. On Thanksgiving, with Die Hard (the best Christmas movie ever) playing in the background, I pounded out 6k words. I did 17k words in four days. Don’t let anyone tell you that the NaNo minimum of 1667 words is a lot of words. It isn’t. My problem is that the first thousand and a half for the day are slow to come and all too easy to put off. But once I get past that one thousand and a half are past me, it’s like I can’t stop writing. It’s a good thing to know; that I need to be setting higher word count goals per day because I don’t get into my flow for awhile.

Even though the book isn’t finished, I still cannot believe I finally, finally have 80% of a single book completed. For years, I watched in awe as people around me did NaNo, and I wasn’t in awe of the word count so much as I was in awe of them having a clear picture of a single thing to write about.

My whole life I’ve been buying into the myth that a brilliant, perfect book idea just strolls into a writer’s head. Then the writer ruminates on that brilliant idea, without typing a word, and then several years later sits down to write and it all just comes out perfectly.

I was only partially correct about the last part. Once you sit down and actually write, plot problems and ideas come to you (imperfectly). Things start connecting. But you must, must, must write. Believe me: you will work out problems on paper. But ONLY on paper  (or electronic paper, of course).

Without the advice of Dean Wesley Smith and Heinlein’s Rules, I would not have made it this far. And of course Jessica for pushing me to sign up in the first place. And my husband for listening to my incredibly twisted ideas.

Big things are happening right now! I am so motivated it’s not even funny.

Okay. This is egregious celebrating considering the book isn’t finished.


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