Two pots of coffee per day

Today I am tired.  Some say it is the pollen.  I don’t know.  Two pots of coffee per day while I try to finish writing my book are certainly not keeping me up at night.  No, I collapse and sleep.

I am at a very difficult place in the book – the climactic big action finish, and action is so hard for me to write.  It’s like getting blood from a turnip.  I keep referring back to the old adage: “How do you eat an elephant:  one spoonful at a time.”  So I’m eating the elephant metaphorically.  Part of the issue is that as I develop the critical issues in the story, I have to go back and tweak earlier and ending chapters so that everything lines up properly:  dates, timelines, plot points.  It has to make sense.  Yes, I have 12 chapters done, but chapter 9 seems to require the most tweaking of all.  I also have the last two chapters written although what their real numbers are I don’t know.  I just assigned them numbers way out in the distance.  I know what they are because I don’t write in a linear fashion.  I write where the muse takes me and sew the pieces together. 

I have actually been surprised when writing this Sherlock book that the muse has really been quite copious with inspiration.  Whereas my book does stay pretty much in canon with where the BBC1 show has taken the characters, it also has a richness of depth about Sherlock’s past – things that are hinted to in the series but never fleshed out.  I don’t fully flesh them either, but at least I take the time to offer a plausible explanation and timeline that would never contradict anything the show has done.

One of the Siamese cats I am living with.
This one is Lionel.

One of the things I do here each day is to check the six hummingbird feeders and to refill them as needed.  I also scoop all the cat litter from the large containers – and there are 17 to do, which include the two in my little apartment.  This complex is pretty much a cat sanctuary, but the two that live with me still haven’t warmed up to me although they will come out of hiding when the landlady visits.  They are apparently sweet enough.  They do come over and sniff me.  Maybe if I dabbed myself with sardine juice they would be more inclined to check me out. 

I now have 4 new pairs of shoes, including 2 pairs of crocs, and I will undoubtedly have to send some into storage when I take to the road again.  How much of the clothing that was purchased for me that will go into storage, I don’t know.  I did empty one of my 3 food containers.  Definitely only taking ONE when I head out onto the road again. 

And while I’m talking about heading back out onto the road, let me just clear something up:  my end destination is NOT the Atlantic coast.  I don’t know where or when my end destination is.  Oh, I will go to the Atlantic coast, but I’m not stopping there.  I know for certain I want to go to the Florida Keys.    I know there are a lot of places I want to see by bike.  I know that even as I sit here in the comfort of this free apartment that there is NO part of me that wants to settle down and start all over with a lifestyle that I just purposefully gave up.  Except for basic food and toiletry supplies, I am extremely resistant to buying anything that I just got rid of.  Didn’t even want to buy a spatula.  I have such crude, basic supplies, but they work for me.  I get given a lot of food… persimmons, other fruit, bread, veggies.  Of course I had to buy laundry soap and dryer sheets.  I’ve been given lovely new towels and washcloths. A queen-sized inflatable bed was purchased for me (and the underwear still keeps pouring in).  The six pairs of socks are nice although I need to get more.