Deadlines

This year, I’ve been trying to adhere to deadlines. I’m the kind of person who likes to get things done and not have to get extensions to get assignments / manuscripts done in time. And up until now, I’ve done alright.

I decided to do my last Organic Gardening course through Open Polytechnic in February to give myself a break over the holidays, but then I wasn’t counting into that Apple packing, which last year I did every alternate night. This year, I’ve done it Monday to Wednesday night, and as a result I’ve been exhausted Thursday and Friday, so I’ve only really had to the weekends to get anything done on my course.

The assignments are due in May – I’m not sure when, but they are due. I’ve completed the course, I just need to fill in the gaps on the assignment and do some practical courses. Like making compost. Testing Soil samples from different sites, and determining what the make up is of each site. These things are proving difficult to do, and my compost pile is being stubborn. I had to remake my compost so that they knew what I knew what I doing. The problem is, we’re going into winter, and the compost heap isn’t heating up like it should. Which means that it isn’t breaking down.

I can use my existing compost for some of the tests (seeing how many radishes come up compared to weeds) but I need to show them that my compost is working and breaking down things.

I also asked my editor to edit Compromising Positions at the end of June. And I don’t think I’m going to get it edited by then.

I don’t like breaking my deadlines, but I’m not sure that I’m going to get my assignments or book edited in time.

I will push on, and hope to get the assignments (three of them) finished by mid May, and I will try and get my story edited, but I might have to push that deadline out, if my editor is okay with that.

How has your week been? You have any deadlines that are pressing on you at the moment?

Take care out there.

Catherine

And Onto Something New

I’ve finished writing Carol’s Christmas, well, almost, there isn’t a lot more to write. So, what am I up to next?

I have editing to do on a project, a super-secret project that will be revealed in December, and I have three books that need editing, and a third that needs writing. Decisions, decisions.

As I have already started editing, I will finish that, it’s a short Historical romance based in 1920s United States. It is a present for my newsletter subscribers, and I’m excited to get it finished, because its been rattling around in my laptop for about ten years.

I also have a super-secret project; I’m getting together with some other authors to do a Christmas giveaway. I’ll give you more details nearer the time but suffice to say that I have a small bit of writing to do for this. It wasn’t hard to choose which book to promote, but its proving to be a little harder to come up with the secret project. It will come together though, I hope.

Two books that need editing – Secondhand Daughter, Compromising Positions and Finding Sam Healey (aka Finding Sams Family) all need a round of edits. But, I hear you say, you’ve already editing Secondhand Daughter and Compromising Positions. Yes, I have, but I often self-edit a few times before I pass it onto an actual editor, because I want to send the most polished version I can. And I like to take a break from each book before editing / drafting, because I can look at it with fresh eyes.

And I also have Dragon’s Lore, which is shaping up to be rather…Epic. I have at least five stories for the series all rolling around inside my head, and on my laptop and notebooks in various places, so I am happy to start with writing that. But I think I’ll do some editing first.

So, I’ll dive into Secondhand Daughter again, and I have my editor booked for the end of January, so I have a deadline to work to, although I hope to have it finished well before then.

What plans do you have for this week?

Kia kaha everyone.

Catherine.

Progress

It’s Sunday evening, it’s been raining today, the first time in a while that we’ve had rain during the day. Fortunately, we got out in the garden yesterday and mowed lawns and planted plants. So today was a day for doing things I love doing. Instead I ended up having a nap.

But then when I got up, I thought I should get some more done on my Organics Gardening course through the Open Polytechnic. And now, I’ve been doing some editing on Compromising Positions, my romantic comedy.

I’m not quite half way through, I’m at Chapter 15 out of about 41, but I’m over a third of the way through. And getting back into a routine of editing / writing in the mornings again. It feels good to get back into the swing of things. All things going well, I hope to start writing my next story in April.

But here is an excerpt of what I’ve been working on. Hope you enjoy it.

Ten days later, most of my gear had been moved, except for the bed and the lazyboy. They had been too heavy and cumbersome for me to move on my own. I’d asked Kirsty for help, and was expecting her to arrive any minute.
“Hello, Jo?”
A sexy voice rumbled. My heart wanted to melt. I turned around to find…
Logan.
I looked him straight in the eye, and felt a giddy sensation overtake me and my knees went weak. I had to brace myself on the chair to stop from stumbling. We held eye contact for longer than we should have with an awkward silence. He stood in my doorway, a tight grey t-shirt showing off all of his muscle definition, his thumb hooked through the belt loop of his blue jeans, the other hand removing dark glasses his face. Silhoutted in the doorway he looked like a contemporary romance hero. I shook my head to gather my senses. He wasn’t who I was expecting to show up on my doorstep.
“Oh, Hi, how are you?” I tried not to show the surprise in my voice, but I don’t think I did very well.
“Were you expecting someone else?”
“No, yes.” I paused, swallowed and straightened myself up. “Kirsty actually.” I scratched my head and fidgeted, hoping he wasn’t watching me blush. There was a cute smile on his lips, his hazel eyes shone. I hadn’t noticed his eyes before. I guess I was too busy telling him to butt out.
“Kirsty asked me to help.”
My mouth opened wide, and closed again. “Okay, thank you.” I turned away from him, then turned back. I became hyper aware of him as his frame filled my only exit from the room.
“You don’t mind me moving in with your father? I mean, we aren’t a couple or anything.”
He smiled, and scratched his head and blushed. “I know, I talked to Dad, he said that you were only friends.”
“Did you think…” I did something vague with my hands, like a coupling. The red on his cheeks darkened, and he ducked his head down. He pulled at his lips with one hand.
“Ah, yeah.”
I wanted to laugh, but I couldn’t. His discomfit was actually quite endearing. I smiled at him. I stepped forward and held out my hand. “I’m Joanne Leicester. I went to school with Kirsty.”
He nodded and reached out to grip mine. It was warm and firm and my knees went wobbly again.
“Yeah, I vaguely remember you.” He said. It was my turn to flush and I felt the heat rising up from my neck. I looked away and indicated the bed and the lazyboy.
“They’re the only two items that need to go.” I said.
“Okay, are they ready to go.”
“Yeah,” I said as he stepped past me and looked into my bedroom. He looked at the stripped back bed, the clean walls, windows, floors. There was nothing in the room except for the bed and base, which I had propped up against the wall in order to vacuum the room.
“I got Kirsty’s truck, so we can put those in the back. He indicated with his thumb over his shoulder.
I looked outside at the Utility truck. It had a big deck, we could probably get the bed and the lazy boy on.
“What’s first?” He asked.
“The bed?” I suggested. We went into the small space and his scent filled the room, a masculine essence with a hint of leather and spice. I tried to quietly inhale it and commit it to memory, because I really liked it. We maneuvered the mattress out the doors and onto the ute. The base of the bed was next and they slotted in nicely together. The lazyboy was cumbersome, and awkward to carry, and I started to get the giggles.
“What’s wrong?” Logan asked.
“Nothing,” I replied as we tipped the chair sideways to get it to fit through the doorway. Logan stepped backwards, off the step and landed in amongst the bushes, the chair landing on top of him. My giggles gave way to full on laughter.
“Hey, its not funny, get this bloody heavy thing off me.”
I honestly struggled. I couldn’t lift it off him because he looked so funny, his head framed by soft white blooms of the gypsophla, giving him a haloed look. The more he thrashed about, the more the tiny flowers lodged in his hair. By the time he got out, he smelt of herbs and surrounded by white blossoms.
“Okay, giggly gert, you can stop now.” He said as he brushed himself down. A smile pulled at the corner of his lips as he spoke. He shook his head and a shower of white cascading from him. We lifted the chair out of the garden and put it onto the truck, where Logan tied everything down.
“I’ll meet you at your Dad’s.”
“Come with me, saves taking two cars.”
“I have to come back and clean.” I said.
“I can drop you back.” He said. I nodded and got into the truck.