Author: Jonathon

Better day today. After backing up a little, ie . . . dumping some pages, I got fifteen pages done, and we’re at 961 pages in total. I’m hoping the last sex scene is done for this book. I actually got out my book of sexual positions, no, really, and tried to find something we hadn’t done before in a book, but would still work in a stretch limo. It was harder than it sounded. I also try to stay away from positions that are so awkward you feel like you need a safety line and a spotter. The Kama Sutra is interesting, but though you may be able to get into most of the positions in this reality, you’d need other people to grab an ankle and spin you for the position to work. Yeah, yeah, I’ve had people tell me it’s all possible. But the Kama Sutra was originally meant to be meditation. Yeah, that’s right meditation. Some of these positions were never designed to be tried by real people. Honest. The book I used today was THE COMPLETE MANUAL OF SEXUAL POSITIONS BY Jessica Stewart, though most of it is stuff Jon and I had worked out on our own. Every time you think that you’ve created something brand new, you find that they’ve been doing it for years. That whole, nothing new under the sun thing. But just because it’s not new, doesn’t mean it isn’t fun.
Dinner’s up; oven roasted corn on the cob (some of the last of the season), beef eye of round steaks (we average beef about twice a month, sadly, we’ve found it does contribute to the whole weight thing), steamed carrots and asparagus round out the meal.

I had anxiety dreams last night. Not my anxiety dreams. Anita’s anxiety dreams. I spent much of last night searching for my gun because I was going to have to report to the Federal Marshals, or sometimes it was the F.B.I. And it was like I was worried they’d be mad because I’d misplaced the gun that they’d given me. Though one version of the dream had me not sure I wanted to find my gun. Maybe it was time to do something less dangerous. The dream changed into my own anxiety dreams, about touring, and personal appearances, especially television. Don’t know why but I still find that an anxious thing to do. I kept loosing my make up, and getting surprise telly interviews. One version or another of either my own anxiety dreams, or Anita’s, all night long. Not a peaceful night. I really, really, REALLY, need this book done.
950 pages and still counting. Man.

The kiddo is home sick. She started with a fever on Sunday, and it was a 102.something a few minutes ago. Doctor says it’s a virus and you just have to let it run it’s course. Jon has been on munchkin duty today, and yesterday. Since Sunday, I’ve seen the BARBIE Fairytopia movie six times, and part of a seventh. Jon has now seen the movie twelve times. He deserves like a medal, or something. We’ve actually purchased the newest BARBIE movie, the Pegasus one, but haven’t told our daughter, yet. We’re holding it in reserve for tomorrow, because there will be no school again tomorrow. She needs to be fever free for twenty-four hours to be not contagious. Very frustrating for the kiddo and us.

I feel like I should just hang a sign on the blog, “Gone Writing, be back soon.” I think until the book is done, that the blog will be spotty, at best. Sorry. I’ll say that for me the Halloween season is the beginning of the holiday season. I find as the holiday gets closer, I am thinking more about my grandmother, who I lost this year. For better or worse, she was all I had, and she raised me. So many issues never resolved between us. I feel haunted. And yes, I am well aware of the traditions of Halloween and that it is one of the times of year when the veil between the living and dead is thinnest. She’s not a ghost, but some memories have the power to haunt the mind and body just as surely as ‘ghosts’ can haunt a house.

The book is kicking my butt. Over nine hundred pages and the end is only a misty image on a horizon that no longer seems to get any closer. I’d planned on writing about how Jon and I celebrated our anniversary. I’d planned on talking about character creation since I’m being forced to come up with new characters, because my stable of regulars is empty. This book has fuckin’ drained me. I’d planned on doing a lot of things, but if I don’t make actual pages on the current book none of the rest matters, so I’m back to work. Charlie Brown Christmas on the player, and away we go.

Page 878, and no end in sight. If things keep up at this pace, and plot, this may be the longest Anita book ever. I may finally break that thousand page mark. Not a goal I ever wanted to make. I, unlike Charles Dickens, don’t get paid by the word. I’m off to bed.

Anita has had one of those painful revelation moments. It’s either going to be an epiphany that changes completely how she looks at her life and the men in it, or she’s going to realize that the knowledge doesn’t actually change anything that has gone before. It will change how will deal with certain vampiric abilities in the future, but what’s done is done, alls well that ends well, pick your saying. The milk has spilled and you can’t put it back in the bottle. You just have to clean up the mess, and buy more milk. Anita’s leaning towards the whole epiphany thing, and as her stress level rises, so does mine. I’ve tried for it not to effect me, but it does. We’re planning an outing with our daughter and her friend this weekend. Real family bonding time. I’m so far into Anita’s head, that it seems like a weird thing to do. I’ve reached that magical point where her world is almost more real than anything else, yet not. When I’m like this, it’s a blessing and a curse. A blessing because it helps me write and breath life into the world. A curse because it’s hard to be thinking about vampires and wereleopards when I’m supposed to be helping with homework, and planning family weekends. I have to fight to be truly present in my everyday life, and not so far inside my head, that I’m only there in body, not in spirit. Yet, I strive to keep spirit in that book world, because to lose the feel of a book too much impedes the writing. Deadline is well past, I can’t afford to be impeded. A juggling act, this. One I’ve never truly mastered.
Six pages today. I owe myself at least four more, and I’d prefer five.

Did four pages before lunch today. Nice change. I’m ending the day at 4:30 in the afternoon with 11 pages to my credit. Yea! Wrote most of the day to Christmas music of various Rat Pack members; Dean Martin, Frank Sinatra, Sammy Davis Jr. But in the last half, or more, of the writing was done to Audioslave. What I think was their debut album, which is self-titled, Audioslave. So far I like the whole damn album. Very cool. I’m quitting work for the day. First time in days that I’ve been done this early without feeling like I still owe myself pages.

It is nearly ten o’clock at night. Jon and I just finished helping Trinity with her homework. She had scouts until 5:00, and we had to have dinner, but damn. It’s a lot of homework. I managed to get two pages, which, I guess, with the disrupted day I’ve had isn’t horrible. It just feels horrible. It feels like the book is becalmed in the middle of a very big, very empty ocean, and I have no idea which way is shore. I’m going to bed now before I grow anymore maudlin.