So here is the update for the month:

1.  Revise and edit Medusa as a romance novel(!?!)

2.Edit “Of Kings Queens and Noblemen” – 1/2 way through read through.

3. Finish my Ice Planet Story

4. Edit Ice Planet – 1/2 way through

5. Edit the Gothic novel (Tobias and Arabella – aka the bloody gothic novel)

6. Finish writing “Son of God”

7. Edit Medusa’s Garden.

SoCNoC month is nearly upon us, and I am not too sure how to approach this.  I am considering doing HalfNoc (25k words) instead as work on revising Medusa, because once I remove most of the inappropriate comments, it will only be about 1/4 of the size it is now.  I have to make it spicier, get it more interesting and have a stunning handsome hero who is able to save Medusa and the day.  I am rather nervous about writing again, because I know that I haven’t had much success with it of late.  It isn’t writers block, it is more a feeling that my work just isn’t up to its usual standard.  I have until 31st July to rewrite Medusa, revise it and send it.

The other stories have all been passed in at the moment, not that I don’t want to work on them, but I really need to focus totally on Medusa.  So HalfNoc it will probably be.

Lets just say, I have written a story that I am happy with, but to make it a romance, it will require a lot of work – even though they say the backbone is there.  If I remove half of what they have suggested, then I will be doing some serious rewriting, something that I am finding rather daunting at the moment.

The rewrites involves Medusa and Perseus getting it on, and staying together in the end… and that is part of my problem, because we all know Medusa dies at the end and that Perseus marries Andromeda.  They have made some useful suggestions on how to make Medusa “die” and I can do that, but I can”t reconcile Perseus and Medusa marrying… unless I make Medusa into Andromeda – and how does that happen?  See my dilemma?

I have been working through this all weekend, and while I know that people like poetic license when it comes to retelling the tales, I originally wanted the story to reflect the human aspect of Medusa, her pain and betrayal.

Now, I have to turn Medusa into Andromeda – which will work, I think – and also make Athena, goddess of wisdom and womanly virtues into a jealous goddess.

Why am I struggling to take a simple story and rip it apart?  I guess because it took me a while to research and write the story, and then to have it basically turned on its head, at a time when I don’t feel very confident with my writing.

I have until 31st July to do this rewrite, so I have a bit of time.  But I have made a decision.  If it isn’t accepted as a romance, it is going back to the way it is, and I will eventually find a home for it, as I intended the story to be –  A story about betrayal of innocence.

I have written Medusa’s Garden from a human point of view – there are the gods and goddesses, but Medusa is human.  But this doesn’t quite sit right with me.

After some discussion with a couple of friends, I have come up with the following options:

1.  Keep Medusa human (she can’t turn men to stone, only petrify them with her anger)

2. Make Medusa the magical mythical beast she has become (turn men to stone, snakes for hair)

3. Have Medusa have the ability to turn men’s hearts to stone (a combination of the two without the snakes for hair)

The poll will be up for three weeks, look forward to your thoughts.

Winter Sunrise

I have recently had my antidepressant changed, and while the Doctor assured me that there wouldn’t be any of the hassles like when you first start taking them, I have really been feeling very flat – two dimensional and wondering why I really don’t care!

It took me a couple of days to recognise it, but the darkness was lurking in the background, but I have found that focusing on something else does help to ease it, and get  me back into the light.

I have recently signed up as a Leadership Representative in my Avon business and working at building a team underneath me.  Actually going out and interacting with the public is the LAST THING I feel like doing, but smiling and making small talk does help me to move back into the light.  It helps me to focus on something other than myself and my hopelessness, which is how I feel when I don’t have anything else on.

But I am not burying my head in the sand, because I am tired too, so I am not pushing myself.  I have every second day off and just focus on homelife, tidying up, watching funny programmes on the telly, and just giving myself some peace.

All of these things are working for me, and slowly, so p a i n f u l l y  s l o w l y I am getting better.

I only want to keep taking the antidepressant to get me through the winter, then I hope to come out into the spring with a bright new outlook and able to cope without the medication.  Fingers crossed this all comes together!

My beloved teaching our son how to ride a motorbike.

Sometimes words just don’t seem to say enough.  I can’t express enough to my husband how much I love him – I can only show him.  I can tell him “I love you” but the words seem hollow when they are said.  It doesn’t truly express the deep and profound affection that I feel for my beloved.

This week has been a tough one.  Words have failed me on a couple of occasions, especially on Thursday when we farewelled young Sarah.  My thoughts have drifted to what I could say to the mother, to console her, but in all honesty, nothing I say will suffice.  It would sound corny and contrite, and that isn’t what I want, so I have decided to let my actions speak.  I plan on doing some baking and making some casseroles and deliver them to her so that she has plenty of food to keep her and her family going for the next few days.  Hopefully this will express to her my deepest feelings, and let her know that she is surrounded by love and comfort.

After the service I had quite a big cry, I had to, I had to let it go, and this was the only chance I would get.  I cried hard for the little girl who didn’t get to live her life, for her parents who would have a gaping wound in their hearts, for her brothers, her friends and extended family, and the community at large.

And that is what has impressed me the most through this week.  The way the community has got beside and behind the family and shown them their support and encouragement, love and peace.  And I am privileged to live in such a community that isn’t afraid to come together in times of trials and support each other.

So this week, here is my challenge to you.  Don’t say something contrite or off hand.  Do it.  Carry out the action – make a batch of scones, go and have a coffee with someone, go and visit a friend you haven’t seen in a while, take a bunch of handpicked flowers to your mother, have a round of golf with your father.  Just do something instead of saying it.  Words can be empty, actions are not.

Yesterday, one of the school children was killed in a motorcycle accident.   And all I can think about is the pain that the mother must be suffering.  I can’t begin to understand that pain, which makes me hurt more for her.

The little girl was an angel, such a beautiful child.  I last saw her on Friday when I was walking my son to school.  Her older brother was frantically pushing his scooter along the footpath, his sister pedalling like a mad woman on a bike too small for her to try and catch up.  She always said hello and had a smile for everyone.  Now that smile is gone.  She is in heaven with the other angels, but that is no consolation for her mother, father or brothers.

It made me think about how precious my son is, and what I would feel if anything should happen to him, and it was beyond comprehension.  I think I would rather die than have to live with that pain.  I am trying not to dwell on it, because I know that it could very easily drag me back into depression.  I have to be thankful that it wasn’t my son, but then I feel guilty for thinking that when a mother has lost a child.

So, to the little angel, enjoy heaven.  To her earthbound family, my sincerest condolences and my thoughts and prayers are with you at this extremely painful time.

How to Play: Comment to this entry and I’ll give you a letter. List ten things that you love that begin with that letter and then post that list on your journal.

My List: Ten Things I Love That Begin With The Letter M

• Mum – I love my Mum very much – plus I am one!
• Masculine – I love my husband and sons
• Make-up – of course, I’m an Avon rep!
• Mascara – OK, love this stuff very much!
• Motivation – I like to encourage other people in their endeavours
• Moods – CD’s and music that is
• Movies – Anything funny or a decent thriller are the best
• Macaroni and Cheese – my fav food when my husband is away.
• Music – that was kind of obvious – took me 5 minutes to think of it!
• Maia by Richard Adams, the most memorable book I have ever read!

Wow, that was fun, and surprisingly easy!  Thanks Cassie.

So now it is your turn, comment on my post and I will give you a letter.

Kawatiri - other side of the tunnel

Depression has been something plaguing my life for the best part of six months officially (unofficially it would probably be about three or four years – more if you ask my husband).  And while some of my posts haven’t made a lot of sense, I am finding myself at the other side, looking back into the dark pit that was my Summer.

And I got support from a lot of people.  My bestie Rachael, my Mum, my husband, (once he accepted I wasn’t mentally insane), my stepdad (also a fellow sufferer).

What surprised me the most though, was the fellow bloggers who have made such positive and encouraging comments on my posts.  Some didn’t understand, but I never asked them to.  I appreciated the encouragement, and the smiles that I got because someone cared enough to tell me they thought I was a good person, or was making progress.

Special mention here should go to J C Hart, James Garcia and Kerryn Angell.  I also have to mention LaVerne Clark and Cherie Le Clare, both of whom contacted me via email or phone, just to check I was doing OK.

If you meet someone, or have a friend who is shutting themselves away from you, make that phone call, ring them, tell them you are thinking of them and ask if they want to go out for a coffee.  If they don’t, just chat to them about anything, books, food, anything.  Just let them know that you are thinking of them.  Because that really does help.

And I am so grateful to those wonderful people who made the effort to comment, ring, or email me to say hello.  They really have made my healing a lot easier.

Bangs Head on Desk by Tolan88 @ deviantart

Depression has really knocked my writing, and it is 8 months since I wrote anything of substance.  I have edited, but not written.

And I know that there are probably some people out there who are just thinking – “writers block”.

And I might have agreed with them, up until two months ago.

I have been writing, rather piecemeal, little bits on this story, a chapter on that story, back to the first story, but nothing really feels right.  Instead I feel like I am forcing myself to write.  This isn’t writers block.  Writers block is where you can’t write!  I can, I just don’t like it.

I know this makes more sense to me than it probably does to you, but I will try and simplify it down for you.

Everyone knows what Writers Block is – right?  (For those that don’t, Writer’s block is a condition, primarily associated with writing as a profession in which an author loses the ability to produce new work. (Thanks Wikipedia))

I can write.  I can write new stuff, it just doesn’t feel right, or sit with what I am doing.  I have days where I want to write, and will do so happily, but if I try too hard, it doesn’t seem right.  I still keep it though, because it might come in handy!

So my problem really is, that the urge to write just doesn’t happen as frequently as I would like, and that is frustrating the hell out of me.  I want to write, but when I sit at my laptop, unless I am really in the space and groove, writing is forced and doesn’t come out the way I want it to.

Maybe I am being too perfectionist about my writing?  But then I seem to feel rather down and flat if I force myself to do something I don’t want to do, so why force myself to write something that isn’t coming together for me.

I feel better for getting this out into the blogosphere, and I am slowly picking up the pieces.  Tonight I have actually done some research on Blood Gold, copying old Newspaper articles in the hopes that something might come of it.

Hidden Cafe, Motueka Valley Highway, NZ

Last Thursday, I had a great start tothe day.  I decided to dig up half of my garden and plant some seeds in the hopes that some plants might come up before winter sets in.  It was a very industrious morning and I felt happy with the outcome.  As a treat (and because Friday was Good Friday), I went up to my favourite cafe with my laptop.

That was my mistake.

By the time I got home, I was feeling very flat and not terribly happy.  While I was at the Cafe, I had forced myself to write.  And that was my problem.  I had to force myself.  What I wrote was OK, but writing just isn’t something I really want to do at present.  And I had made myself do something I didn’t want to do.

Today, as I write this, it is clear as day.  At the time, it took me a while to figure out what the problem was.  I need to give myself the time and space to do what I want to do when I want to do it, and I knew, before I went to the cafe, that I should probably have taken a book to read instead.  But no.  I forced myself to take my laptop and made myself miserable instead.

Lesson learned.

The school holidays are upon me, so a lot of editing won’t be going on, but that is OK.  I think I need to read for a while anyway, and I have Matt Hammond‘s second book to Beta read, and I am enjoying that very much.

And I will take it gently on myself, and not force myself to do something I don’t want to do.  Because if I don’t enjoy it, it will only bring me down again.  Albeit temporarily.