Now that I'm done with
Diary of A... and things were calming down for me, I started to focus my attention on Dark Facade and The Reunion and I had every intention of replying with sadness today (September 25, 2006) about them because I've been so upset over how I couldn't find the strength to finish them when my notes on The Reunion was missing and the file for Dark Facade was corrupted.
But a funny thing happened over this past weekend.....
Someone must have said some kind of prayer for me because I'm looking through my bags and boxes for a brand new bookbag for my son. (School started early September and already the boy broke his bag and Momma's too broke to buy him a new one).
Any way, I'm pissed because I was doing the re-edit of Tanner's Devil trying to get it out before the Janary 2007 national release date and he wouldn't let up about it about getting him a stupid bookbag. I'd done a patch job with duck tape because I was too cheap and too broke to go out and get one. That's just a lot to catch a durn bus for a bookbag, ya mean? When I know knucklebutt will tear it up in another month's time.
Plus, I'm trying to formulate on what the hell I did with The Reunion, so I can start posting and also what I'm going to do about the Dark Facade, because I'm rewriting all the way from Chapter's 20's or so on up and crying about it - to myself of course.
But My readers are asking for these stories and I hate to disappoint my readers.
(back to the searching.)
I find a paper bag which I've never seen before in my life crushed in the bottom of this mess and I would take a picture of this pile of books. papers, and stuff that are in the corner of my room that are all handwritten.
(I kid you not. I have an entire hand written version of Stone's Revenge when I first wrote it and William died in that version and ABigail went on to marry his brother. Serious.)
So I open this bag - forgetting about my son standing there nagging about getting a new bookbag for school and I pull out a yellow notebook. Now I'm going to tell you something about myself. I hate yellow notebooks. Matter of fact. The only color notebooks I prefer to write in are blue and purple. (call me crazy) but hey I'm a writer.
I open this yellow notebook and guess what. My crazy azz in my delirium of writing wrote down EVERYTHING until when Maxine goes into the precint the second time after... well someone dies in the story with blood all over herself and hysterical. I mean I have this awesome love scene which is damn better than any of the other ones between Maxine and Phillip and then I have... well I'm telling you the story aren't I!
I was so excited and I've immediately starting typing it. I wish I had eight fingers and a half so I can just type and do everything else, but I'm on a roll.
I'm not done though, which is why I say this must have been divine, because in the back of this yellow notebook was the outline for the Reunion. In my delirium because I was asked to write a chapter a month, I had made notes on the story and how it was to be displayed each month. It was never saved and I guess I thought I'd keep up with the paper - which i didn't, but i put it where i thought i would never lose it - but i did. (cause i'm crazy).
Here it was and bamm! I immediately started working on that this weekend.
But life isn't that perfect folks. I forgot the damn notebook - which is blue - that I was writing the Reunion in and couldn't post the update for you.
Kill me I know you want to because you started reading this thinking you'd have something to read while you're waiting for me to finish.
But I do owe my readers of the Reunion I think four installments in all and by October, you will have them.
Thank you for all your prayers and thank you so much for helping me with the Dark Facade castrophe. IT was really stressful and bad, but now I can complete the book the way it should have been completed.
PS: I went through all that trouble to find my son a bookbag, which I did - a dark purple and when I displayed this bookbag to him, he said, purple is for girls Mom and turned away and proceeding to re-duct tape his bag mumbling about crazy writing mothers.
I'll get him another bookbag Friday.
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