I think it's Monday night insomnia...

This has been a real waste of a day.  I'm sitting here, wide awake, despite my relatively small caffeine intake.  Maybe it's just the typical Monday night insomnia.  I had a rare case of Sunday night insomnia last night, coupled with some pretty bizarre dreams that I don't remember.

I suppose the day started off pretty productive.  I got the kid pre-registered for preschool.  It was a bittersweet moment.  He's a big boy now...and I love him...and I miss my little boy.  Three is a really great age.  Selfishly, I'd like for him to stay three for a few years.  Everything that comes out of his mouth is gold.  He's just hilarious.  And he's growing up...

That was about where the productivity ended.  I spent a while drawing little black lines and dots and squiggles on the table top I've been working on, and then I gave it 5 coats of polyurethane.  It's not yet done.  After that, I settled in to write.  I've been doing a pretty big rewrite in the beginning, and have gotten to a sticking point.  It's frustrating...I know what comes next, but really want to get through this little part first.  It's just a couple pages, but I'm stuck.  Over-thinking is probably to blame.  So I paced around and drank my coffee and paced around some more.  There was just no writing it today.

And then I heard a song...and there was that little movie in my head.  That's how I see the story, by the way. It's a movie and I just have to write down what I see.  The movie was awful...in that it was really good, but so depressing that I couldn't write it without crying. So I sat there, listening to the song on repeat and crying as I wrote less than a thousand words.  I'm terrible at goodbyes in any context.  This one is right up there with...well, I haven't had a goodbye like this in my life.  I think I'm thankful for that.  It tore me up pretty bad...and the thing is, the part that I wrote isn't even all that upsetting.  I just know what it takes to get there and what's about to happen...so the tiny moment of calm that my characters have makes me ache for them.

I also made salsa, picked up the outside toys, and went for a walk.  The walk was at least partially rewarding in that I got to spend a considerable amount of time completely lost in my head.  I have a playlist for the book, and I was listening to it.  The fact that monsoons are starting and so much of the story depends on the weather...it's good for inspiration.  I was really hoping to get more focus from my walk, though....to come home with a clear mind and motivation to spare.

It's almost midnight... I should be sleeping.  I should be dreaming...

I should put some of that sweet dream stuff on my pillow and try my very hardest to not think for a while.  Maybe do some progressive muscle relaxation...I used to really love that...and it worked great for insomnia. Becoming a mom seems to have been the ultimate insomnia cure, though.  Except on Mondays...sleep never comes easy when the kid's not home.

I think my chances of falling asleep will be greatly improved if I turn off the computer...

What's in a Name?

Anyone who knows me knows that I have a thing for naming things.  I once had hundreds of rubber duckies, and almost all had names.  Yes, I knew those names.  My computers are named (Friday, Dexter, and Howard).  My son has two middle names, and I would have given him a dozen if I'd thought it socially acceptable.  Two is kind of the limit on that, right?  Maybe three.  I don't know.

Anyway...

I haven't officially named the series I'm writing.  It has a working title, as an overall kind of thing for the whole series.  However, not a single one of the individual books has been named.  I feel that this is a hindrance, and that by leaving them unnamed for this long, I'm losing a valuable piece of my story.  What if the name is important to the story?  What if, once I know what it's called, I have to rewrite the whole thing?  That seems all too likely.

The naming issue has been in the back of my mind for over a year, and it's never mattered nearly as much as it does right now.  Why?  Because I named something else.  It's another story that's been in the back of my mind for close to a year now.  I could blame Rumi or Deepak Chopra for it, because I'm sure one of them had something to do with its origin, but I don't remember.  It's not that I'm unhappy that I named it, it's just that... doing so makes me wonder about what I'm doing.

If that name came so simply, does that mean I should shift my focus?  I wasn't even working on that story...I just have a couple notes written down...but the name is there, and it's a real driving force.  I already know I'll be starting the story in August.

I'm not burnt out on the story I'm working on... I hope to have the entire first draft finished relatively soon, but have already gotten caught in a seemingly endless cycle of edits.  I have this terrible habit of putting in placeholder text...it gets a very vague idea across, but isn't what I actually want to say.  Then, I have to go back and clean it up...and sometimes I'm not yet prepared with the right words.  Today I found  a few of them, but not many.  It's been exactly a week since I sent out a section to early readers, and it's already changed quite a bit.

Also, I'm not sure if it's just MY version of Word, or if there's some universal issue with the program.  After page 60, the grammar and spell check functions seem to go insane.  They're missing things that are incorrect, but wanting me to make changes to things that are correct.  I know to, too, and two; I know their, there, and they're, tyvm...but Word is trying to make it look like a text message composed by Swype (which is typically grammatically incorrect to an embarrassing degree).  No, Word, the water did not "creep too her feet."

All that said... I should be writing :)