You know how it goes. You have this excellent idea and you go with it, until you hit a roadblock and it is easier for another idea to take precedence over the first one. You do this enough times and suddenly you have twenty great ideas out there but none of them are even close to completion.
(I get all my great analogies from talking to Charles.) So there you are, standing in a wading pool with a ski on one foot and a roller skate on the other, wearing a pair of boxer shorts and a parka. What is the answer to this great conundrum?
1. Remember to breathe.
2. Decide which project is the most important.
3. Decide which project fits into your schedule and your lifestyle.
This is not to say that you cannot be a successful multi-tasker. Many authors have the ability to write multiple things at the same time, whilst still marketing and managing life, but even then, how much time do you devote to writing vs. marketing? Do you edit one book whilst writing the next or do you keep those projects separate?
Answer: (Not helpful at all)
It depends on the person. There is no simple end-all-be-all answer for the above questions. Each person deals with stress differently and handles multiple projects in their own way. The thing to remember, in my opinion, the thing that is the most important, is that you do not overextend yourself to the point where the quality of your work suffers on all accounts.
Great ideas do not usually have time limits. (I was going to invent the wheel but some other person did that first.)
Has this happened to you? Have you gotten involved in so many things that you can’t decide which of them are important to your original cause and which of them are just distraction? Comment box below.
* Additional note, I had a point to this post but somewhere along the way I lost what it was, likely because I am trying to write a review, answer emails, send out an author interview, write my shopping list, talk on the phone, quiet a dog barking, keep four kids entertained, figure out what’s for dinner tonight, feed fish, fix a broken watch, read wordpress posts and write my next novel.
Thankfully i don’t distract easily…Hey look! A squirrel!
Case and point.
** Additional note, I blame you English Muffin.
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
Have you ever read a book where you became so close to the characters that the end of the book felt like a sad parting of ways? This happened to me with Yesterday road. Often, I find that one of the things that sets a decent author apart from a truly gifted one, is how many characters they are working with. True, it takes talent to have a huge cast of characters and be able to make them all work, but having just a few means that they all must be independent of one another and extremely important. Kevin Brennan is a truly gifted author.
This book makes its way from beginning to end with three vital characters. Naturally, they encounter others along the way who each play an important role in the story, but it is the same three characters that you come to know and love, grow to feel empathy for and ultimately become like close friends or family members in the end. This is the kind of book that you want to savour and enjoy every word of.
I have a special fondness for novels that use repeat passages in certain locations to get a point across, and this author has a way of doing so that makes you both smile, and feel a stab of sadness each time this certain passage appears.
After reading both “Parts Unknown” (A few years ago) and now “Yesterday Road,” I can assure you that there is magic in the pen of this author and this magic comes from his ability to make the ordinary more extraordinary. It is easy to form a lasting bond with these characters and even find yourself wondering about them as if they were real people long after you have finished the book.
Yesterday Road is a book of second chances, lost memories and new friends that will keep your attention and your heart occupied from the first page to the last. My highest recommendation.
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
Jacob was time out of sync, time more perfect than it had been. He was life the way it was supposed to be all those years ago. That’s what all the Returned were.
Harold and Lucille Hargrave’s lives have been both joyful and sorrowful in the decades since their only son, Jacob, died tragically at his eighth birthday party in 1966. In their old age they’ve settled comfortably into life without him, their wounds tempered through the grace of time … Until one day Jacob mysteriously appears on their doorstep—flesh and blood, their sweet, precocious child, still eight years old.
All over the world people’s loved ones are returning from beyond. No one knows how or why this is happening, whether it’s a miracle or a sign of the end. Not even Harold and Lucille can agree on whether the boy is real or a wondrous imitation, but one thing they know for sure: he’s their son. As chaos erupts around the globe, the newly reunited Hargrave family finds itself at the center of a community on the brink of collapse, forced to navigate a mysterious new reality and a conflict that threatens to unravel the very meaning of what it is to be human.
With spare, elegant prose and searing emotional depth, award-winning poet Jason Mott explores timeless questions of faith and morality, love and responsibility. A spellbinding and stunning debut, The Returned is an unforgettable story that marks the arrival of an important new voice in contemporary fiction.
I rarely say this with any real emphasis, but this time I have to: This book is unforgettable.
Have you ever stopped and wished you could have someone you’ve lost come back for a minute, a day, any length of time so you could settle something with them? If you have, then this is the book for you.
This story captivated me from the first page. This story is such a surreal experience. At once, you believe that none of this could be possible, but then you wonder, could something like this happen, and if it did , what would you do?
The story of Lucille and her family was a touching one and I enjoyed all of the characters that were tied together through the opening of each chapter. This book reminded me that this world really is small when it comes to how interconnected our lives are. The way the author made these connections throughout the story were subtle, but effective. Read this book with a box of tissues nearby. Don’t say I didn’t warn you first. It isn’t sad, but emotionally moving is not quite a good enough description.
The only thing not 100% positive I can say about this story is that I felt toward the middle of the book there was a slight lag. It wasn’t terrible and soon passed, but I did feel there was a little spot there where it seemed the author wasn’t sure what he wanted to do next with the story and it showed in the shift of writing style.
I have to say, this was a case where my favourite person was not the main character. I was really impressed with the character Agent Bellamy. He is the type of character that displays compassion and makes you want to keep reading to find out what he does for the other characters in the book. I thought whilst reading this, that the author must have either modeled him after someone he loved, or after his own image, because he was so realistic and his traits seemed effortless that it was like getting to know a real person.
If you have been looking for a story that will resonate with you, raise questions and offer you hope that there really is no forever goodbye, this would be a perfect choice. I really enjoyed this. I will definitely be picking up a hard copy of this book to add to my personal shelf.
This review is based off of a digital ARC provided by the publisher.
I got zapped by the big bug zapper. It was awesome. They discovered a brain metastasis. It was not awesome. I got a great prognosis of 95% chance of full recovery. It was awesome. I go back next week for results. I hate waiting. I am writing this from my phone. It is not so awesome. I got the coolest drawing ever from Dean at deanzdoodlezdeanzdoodlez
Needless to say: awesome.
I feel like complete shite. I’ve never felt better in my life!!!!
I love you guys! A few days to get back on my feet and I will be the neighbourhood terror once more. Thank you everyone for the love, support and well wishes. You mean the world to me.
Have you ever wanted so much
to reach out and help a friend?
To touch someone inside the heart
The way that they have done?
Do you ever get the feeling
that someone you love is lost
someone so dear and important
you would go no matter the cost
Do you ever wish to hug them
be there to hold a hand
pick them up, dust them off
help them from the sand
If you’ve ever really cared
about someone so deep
think of friends as seeds sown
and the benefits we reap
always time to listen
always ease your fears
Maybe it’s because I don’t intend to stay in the house I live in forever. Maybe it’s just all the crap that’s been going on lately, but the clutter is beginning to drive me mad.
Do you ever walk into your house and look around and say–where the &*%# did all this $%#^ come from? I did that this morning. Honestly. Where did the kids and I get all this crap?
See, part of the problem is that I
am was a nomad. Before having kids, I bounced around a lot from place to place and travelled light. One thing is for certain–children are stuff magnets. You can’t walk into a store or go to a friend’s house without them returning with something.
(okay so all the shoes are my fault.)
The problem, as I see it, is that if I am ever going to do another of my fantastically long moves that involve ocean or air travel–99% of all this crap has to go. Either that or I need to purchase a mansion, and hire and aircraft carrier to bring our stuff to the new location.
I remember when I moved into this house. It seemed huge. Truly. Enormous. Four children later and a few acquired pets and now I am lucky of I can find a place to sit. The only room in the house that is clutter free is the library/office
and this is only because I can’t identify my own chaos as clutter. I have heard the words book hoarder from my mum. Maybe two aircraft carriers.
So the point
in this entirely pointless post–is that I’m wondering how much of this stuff we really need to exist? There are five people, but there are like a hundred coffee mugs. I’m the only one so far adventurous enough to drink coffee–especially the way I make it.
There are five people but there are wardrobes enough for all the naked villagers in the rainforest. (Not talking about my shoes.)
There are five people but there is enough linens to cover the world end to end twice.
There are five people but there are enough books to —oh never mind that one. (Okay please except the books and the shoes from stuff to get rid of.)
What do you do to take care of clutter? Do you do a clean sweep every few months or weeks? Do you go nuts once a year and mass delete half the items you own? Or are you like me and don’t think about it until it becomes apparent you are a lazy procrastinator?
Help me peeps.
I’m getting buried and I’m not even dead.
Bung*bunnies (bung*buneez) Noun:The bit of dryer lint that hangs around your undergarments inevitably finding a new home between your cheeks. May also be used as a slang insult: example: The bungbunnies who wasted their time digging through my wallet came up empty handed. First known origin: Early Rome. Bungbunnies were a common problem in Rome as a result of the way clothing was made. The Romans devised a system to deal with the little critters. The invention of the thong underwear article of clothing (also known as butt floss) freed the citizens of this tyranny and ensured clean public baths. Caesar was thrilled and “The Emperor’s New Clothes” became a very successful book.
So there you have it. Bungbunnies.
Secondly, and much less important, it seems as though I made it through the night without sending any further email weirdness to anyone without my knowledge. Changing the passwords and following the Google guidelines to secure my account appears to have worked. I no longer feel as much like an email leper. Now I’m just a paranoid wreck. All has returned to normal.
Finally, I have a question. I was talking to a friend last night who has a blog on Blogger. He posts regular, interesting things in relation to his writing career, his art and other things and yet gets almost no traffic to his site. My advice was to make the switch to WordPress, but am I correct? How much of being a successful blogger is about what you post and your personality and how much of your success is about which blogging platform you use? I used to use Weebly for a few months before making the jump to WordPress. When I came here, I saw traffic increase ten fold. I was still posting the same stuff on the old blog, but did not make the friendships I have made here.
Does anyone else have any experience using Blogger or another blog site and can you offer your opinion of WordPress vs. the other choices? I have heard from a few bloggers that are using other platforms and are unhappy with the results. Since I only have experience with the two sites, I was hoping you guys could offer a little input. Is WordPress better when it comes to comments, likes and getting your message out to a broader audience?
Thank you guys for all of the support you showed me yesterday through the Bungbunny drama. You made me feel loved even when I had leprosy:)
Now to go answer comments and check the security of my email again.
I hope you get an email from
The national ambassador of shit
Informing you your new detail is
To pick up all of it
I hope that granny texts you
That you’ve been cut out of her will
I hope that when you see your face
It makes you green and ill
I hope that when you walk outside
You’re struck by lightning bolts
And I can see the flash from here
Powering my computer with the volts
I hope you contract a virus
From digging through my things
And when you answer your telephone
It’s a telemarketer that rings
I hope that you are proud of yourself
And enjoyed my little toast
Without you I would not have had
Such amazing things to post
and the beating of your heart
While I still reach out for you
at noises in the dark
I still wait for your return
long after you’ve been gone
I still turn down the volume
when it plays that special song
While summer rays of blazing gold
eventually simmer down to fall
I still hold these memories
and listen for your call
There is a separation
between life and death
I still feel you here with me
in whispers and in breath
Some days feel the pain so recent
and tears come to my eyes
the lingering unanswered
the forever question why
I look up to the heavens
on rainy days like this
tears from immortal memories
recalling your final kiss