Sherri Cornelius

fantasy author

Weekend happenings

My mind is sort of a blank this morning, but I feel like connecting with the world so I’m posting anyway. I apologize in advance for any inanity which may follow.

Over the weekend a couple of my first readers got back to me with comments on my long synopsis. Their advice was right on and exactly what I needed, pointing out things I am too close to see. Really invaluable. I’m sure the rest of my readers will have just as much insight. I’ll do an in-depth report once it’s a done deal, probably by the end of the week.

While I’m waiting to finish my synopsis, I have my editing job to do. Last week I received my next two assignments from Eternal Press. To my surprise, they are both classified as erotica. Now, I’ve never edited erotica before, although I did go through a time when I thought I might be able to write some. (Not.) By the way, the link goes to my old blog because the comments somehow didn’t get imported over here on my older posts. The comments are funny.

So anyway, yeah, I’m editing erotica. So far it’s been very–ahem–interesting. It’s smashing my preconceived notions of erotic literature and bringing to light some personal attitudes which have always operated unseen. Eye-opening, in a number of ways.

On the health front, I found out toothpaste irritates my skin and is probably why my tongue always feels burny. On the other hand, the knuckle on my broken finger popped and I regained some range of motion. I hope this bodes well for having a full recovery.

I pulled all my WIP files to one location and started organizing them. Cuts, backstory, notes, different chunks of chapters, the working doc, 3 different synopses, etc. I’m a very sloppy saver, so my file names are not nearly descriptive enough to immediately know what they are, and also they are saved to two different computers and a backup hard drive. I have the same file name 10 times on 4 different documents. It’s atrocious. If anybody has any thoughts on a better way to organize and evaluate what to save and what to delete, please let me know. If nobody has a better idea, I’ll import all the files into Page Four, see how that works.

Have a great week.

Totally venting…Feel free to pass

The migraine cycle is like driving a Kansas highway at night. You can go for miles in a straight line, the road gently sloping up toward the sky, the night air growing cooler as you get higher. But you can’t see the apex of the hill, it’s so subtle, so eventually you realize you’ve passed your healthy time and you’re going downhill again. It’s too late to go back at that point, you’re already rolling steadily into the next shallow valley, but you can’t tell where the bottom is until you hit it. Sometimes it’s an hour later, sometimes seconds.

Luckily, I’m on the upward slope right now.

Thank you all for being so supportive and kind when I complain about my bad health. I just feel like crap all the time, you know? I guess that’s one reason why I stopped blogging so much (before this month). The only thing I have to talk about is how crappy I feel. My low vitality is related to one thing: my inability to have fun. I’m bored and stressed and have no outlet, really. Every corner of my homestead reminds me how much I have to do, yet going elsewhere for pure fun would require funds I don’t have. Even if I could work around the fragrance thing.

Goddangit, I need to make some money! A job would give me something to do, even if it’s not for fun, at least I’d be occupied. I just feel like my hands are tied. If I get a job, the constant headaches will undoubtedly come back. I have no skills that could translate to working at home. Besides writing, that is, and I’ve tried freelancing and it’s definitely not for me. If I made even a little bit from my novels it would ease the noose. I contemplate going back to school, but I couldn’t swing it, for lots of reasons. So I go around and around my few futile options and feel like there’s something I’m missing.

Do you feel successful where you are? Have you ever been really poor? What do you consider “poor”, and by that I mean personally, what is the line for you. If you ever came out of poverty, did you pull yourself up by your bootstraps, or was there some deus ex machina involved?

Wow, my head feels even better now that I let off some steam. I should do that more often.

Ask me anything–I'll answer

Again I’m at the point where real life is more interesting and busy than my digital one. I’ve neglected Facebook over Twitter, yet I haven’t disconnected the link between the two, so it looks like I’m updating Facebook all the time. I don’t mind except I miss FB comments and look like a douchebag. (I know the word “douchebag” doesn’t usually apply to ladies, but I do love it so!) So I guess I should do a run-down of the low-down. Here’s what I’ve been up to in a numbered list, so in your comments you can merely reference the number of the topic. You’re welcome.

  1. I typed so much on my beautiful new/ancient typewriter that my bad finger refused to type anymore. Back to pecking the keyboard with my patented left hand/right index finger technique, and only when absolutely necessary. (yes, this is necessary.)
  2. I’m about halfway through Brian D’Amato’s (you say D’Amayto, I say D’Amahto) In the Courts of the Sun, about a modern Maya guy who travels back in time to save us from whatever disaster 12-21-12 has in store. The subject matter is way dense, but it’s something which has always fascinated me, and the language is just light enough to keep me afloat. And I do mean just. Even the lightness is dense at times, if that makes any sense. But overall I like it.
  3. Ummm, let’s see…Oh yeah, speaking of dense, I spent two whole days cleaning all the viruses off my mom’s laptop. (It wasn’t her fault, btw.) She hasn’t been able to use it for months, so she said if I could get it working I could use it, because…
  4. An editor expressed interest in BVA but wants to see a 15-20 page synopsis, so I had to get crackin’ on that. I started writing by hand, thought of switching to the typewriter, but since I want to get it done a.s.a.p. I’d prefer to put it right into Word.
  5. Which reminds me, I have to get that installed on here somehow…
  6. I’m back to weaning myself off processed foods and sugar. It’s not so scary the fifth time you do it. I’m convinced that reducing the toxins I take in with my food will help my body process the toxins I take in through the environment. I can control the former, but not the latter. Join me.

That’s not all I have to talk about, but I have to save my finger. I’m going to steal an idea from Ian‘s blog and let you ask me questions for a future post. Anything you want to know, about writing or politics or my personal life? How about if I make it interesting and say that I will anwer any question you throw at me. Dare I promise that? Sure, why not? I’ll answer anything. Might not be he answer you want, though…

I feel a shift coming on

Random thought: does anybody else have a crush on the “FreeCreditReport.com” commercial guys?

The 1 hand + 1 finger typing is getting easier. I miss being able to watch the screen while I’m typing because watching the keyboard reminds me I’m putting my thought down, rather than just watching them flow onto the screen automatically. It’s distracting. Plus my hand gets tired easily. It seems to have reached a healing plateau, maybe because I started using it before it was ready. I think now that I did crack a bone, maybe two so I’m keeping it braced. Forcing myself to give it the time it needs, no matter how cranky DH gets for having to do the things I normally do, like cantaloupe chopping and opening jars and doing dishes. Actually, he’s been pretty good about it, and the kids have, too. they’ve been doing most of the dishes, so I bought Abby a pretty pink sponge to fit her small hands.

It’s only partly because of the hand that I haven’t been online much. I’m having one of those shifts in consciousness that comes every so often where I reassess my interests. The kids are old enough, the marriage is stable enough, and I have no worries at the moment. Oh, I have plenty of things I could worry about, like having no health insurance, but I’m tired of worrying about those things. I’ve got it pretty good here in my little corner of the world. Maybe it’s the bad economic stories I keep seeing on the news, or maybe it’s because I have a decent car, but for some reason I don’t feel as poor as I did a couple of months ago. It’s a nice feeling.

Ready to find a way to make some money, get in shape, make a difference in other people’s lives. I’d like to do all those things in one activity. I’m trying not to worry about the financial aspect, instead trusting that enough money will be there if I find my calling. So what do I enjoy doing? Where do my natural talents lie? What are my limitations? Those are important questions I need to answer, and I may explore that in the next post.

Don't be playin' no pranks on me.

I’m in no mood.

Totally hung over from all the fragrance I inhaled yesterday on the field trip to the children’s museum.  I rode the bus to and from the museum, and that was by far the hardest part. All those parents with perfume and aftershave, and all those clothes washed in detergent with renewing scent beads or whatever they call them, and all those kids freshly washed with poison-er, I mean scented soap… I want to be supportive of my children, so I won’t complain about it in front of them. They might wonder why Mommy needs to close her eyes all the time, or why she doesn’t notice them talking to her, or why she can’t sit with the other mommies, but damn it, I WILL be there for my kids. I just have to modify my there-ness. I’m physically present at school functions, but I may not be totally mentally there. Hopefully I can make up for that by being fully present at home. As I always say, at least I know what’s causing it, thereby making it easier to reduce the impact.

Apparently Jenny McCarthy has a new book out about a link between environmental chemical exposure, like to mercury in fish and VOCs in carpet (and if anyone would like me to expand on those or provide links, just holla), and autism. She’s paired with a doctor to write this book, so maybe it will be taken more seriously than if it was just Bulldog McCarthy on her own, with her crazy eyes and sharp tongue. If I felt better I’d do the linking and all that, but right now I’ll just say I think there probably IS a link, and it makes me angry that scientists aren’t really considering that as a possibility. As a person with a near-debilitating problem with environmental chemicals, it makes perfect sense to me. I think the research WILL eventually be done, and in 20 years it’ll be, “Remember when we didn’t understand the link between all those chemicals and illness? Ha ha ha, we were so naive back then. Good thing we know EVERYTHING now.” (right).

Despite the fragrance, I was glad to have gone, and my daughter enjoyed having me there.

I dreamed about books and writing and publishing all night. I wish I could remember more than random details. Some of you know I’ve been going through some internal turmoil about my writing career (or lack thereof). You know how when you need to pee, trying to put it out of your mind just makes you need to pee worse? That’s me.

You guys have a great April Fool’s Day, hope all the pranks are harmless, and I’ll see you on the flip side.

So about my hand…

So I hurt my hand on Friday, remember?Once again, I was paying attention to the kids and not where I was going and paid the price. This time we were on our way out, the kids excited about the promised Spring Break trip to the skating rink. They ran ahead, and I called out instructions as I closed the door behind me, and I stepped wrong, twisting my ankle. I put my hand out to catch myself on the stoop and  jammed my middle finger, I guess, on the step with all my weight on it. Something popped, actually several things popped, and I screamed. The pain was so great I was afraid to look at it, so great I forgot how to speak. I knew the kids would be worried, but I couldn’t think of what to say.

Unlocking the door seemed an insurmountable challenge, but driving to the skating rink seemed doable for some reason. I didn’t want to disappoint the kids, and I thought it wasn’t as bad as I thought. I was wrong.

The swelling is almost gone, the bruises have started to fade, but I can see it’s going to be weeks before I regain full function of my right hand. It gets tired fast, and the middle finger still isn’t right. I can type with it as long as I go slowly and take many breaks, so maybe I can get back into my writing schedule now that the kids are back in school.

Thanks for the supportive comments. This is the last time you’ll hear about the hand until I announce that it is completely healed.

I'm no dummy. (shut up.)

The kids are back in school, hubby is back at work, and I’m where I always was. The temp will climb to the mid-fifties today, so my guess is that most of the ice/snow will be melted by this evening. The rest will melt tomorrow when it gets in the mid-sixties.

Good thing we took advantage of the sunshiney weather yesterday to play in the snow. Neighbor Lady saw us playing outside and brought her grandkids over to play with us. Since we ere outside the fragrance wasn’t too much of an issue. Whenever I caught a whiff I just moved further up-wind. I’m a be-near person, not a stay-away person, so it was weird trying to keep my distance from them.

This is the same neighbor whose daughter has been fighting cancer, don’t know if you remember, and I was watching the granddaughter from time to time before I realized the smell her shampoo was a trigger for my migraines. I wish I could do more for Neighbor Lady, because she’s the only one who can take up the slack with her grandchildren while their mother is ill. I appreciate Neighbor Lady’s understanding. If you have a moment to spare, could you say a short prayer for the family’s healing?

In other “news”, I had planned to call my agent today. I’m at a crossroads, as one book is losing momentum and the new one is just starting its submission life. I emailed my list of questions to Sara almost two weeks ago, and as it became clear my email got lost somewhere, I figured she’d probably rather have a phone conversation.

Only here’s what happened: I sat down to make that call at 9 a.m. my time, which would mean it was 10 a.m. her time. Got ready to dial, and the phone rang in my hand. It was my brother, checking to see if I had done a bit of business we’d talked about, which I hadn’t. Time was of the essence, so I called the business, hung up, called my brother again, hung up, business was done in a half hour. Prepared to dial Sara, again the phone rang. This time it was a wrong number. Hung up. Checked email while I waited to see how it played out, if the phone would ring again. After 5-10 minutes it hadn’t, so I thought about calling again, and just then my mother called. By the end of  that conversation an hour had elapsed.

Mind you, I’d not had one call before I tried to call Sara, nor one since I decided not to. I’ve had enough experience with signs to know it’s best to heed them. The call can wait till another day.

A doctor who listens: priceless

Despite a relatively quiet Internet on my end, the blog traffic doubled for some reason. Does WordPress count the spam comments? Because at 30 per day, that would explain it, disappointing though it would be. I used to be able to sift through them all before they were deleted, but now the volume is too high. If you have a comment which doesn’t show up, that’s why. Just send it again.

I ended up crying at the doctor’s office yesterday. I feel pretty dumb about the blubbering, but it just serves to show how frustrated I am by the whole thing, how much I really need to figure this sinus thing out. The X-rays showed nothing abnormal (it so cool to see inside my own skull) so he gave me a course of antibiotics and steroids.

I told Doc I’d been dealing with this problem for 6-7 years, but as I look back I think it’s been closer to eight or nine. I’m not sure if Doc believes me when I tell him how my old doctor dealt with these chronic problems. With the backward lens of time and experience, it seems like the old doc hated me. I wish I could see what he wrote about me in my chart.

It won’t surprise me at all if antibiotics clear it right up. The old doc refused to consider it. I love having a doctor who listens to me, even when I’m crying.

And oh yeah, I told him about the fragrance thing and he didn’t laugh at me. He didn’t get defensive. He didn’t dismiss it. He said some people have sensitive airways, and that was it. I’m hoping that the fragrance sensitivity will shake out when my sinuses are healed. I’d probably never go back to the old level of stinkiness, but at least I’d be able to be around people again, which means writer’s cons and a job and TCoB in general. To be normal would be the height of awesomeness.

Migraine Zen

My health seems to be returning, slowly. What? Y’all didn’t even know I was gone? Hmph. Well I guess I have been an erratic blogger of late. Maybe that’s why my blog traffic has been cut in half. Not even my mom reads anymore.

This migraine didn’t last nearly as long as last month’s, but it lasted long enough. I hadn’t really recovered from that last one when I got a cold, and when that one wore off, this migraine hit. I’m not sure I’ve ever had a migraine bout this long, but it appears that impacted sinus stuff was the reason. Things are loosening up now, and my eyesight is returning to normal. I regained enough energy to vacuum the filthy, crumby carpets, neglected while I did the absolute necessities of laundry and dishes. Started doing the critiques I’d promised. Nasal spray helped, so I will squirt that junk up my nose for as many days as it takes to reach optimal performance. Oh, hello, Addiction!

A strange thing happens to me during a migraine state. As I said the last time I posted about it, it’s actually quite boring, since any mental stimulation at all increases the pain and is therefore to be avoided at all cost. The result is a deliberately unfocused mind, where thoughts flow in and out, disconnected, disjointed, and usually temporary, since I’m unable to hold them and turn them over and commit them to memory. In, then out. That’s it.

And I actually love that state of mind. I liken it to a what a zen master must be able to achieve, only without the pain. I’m holding very still, shutting out any external stimuli, emptying my mind, and I get very close to the core of my spirit, that quiet, thoughtless place that guides me. Too bad I can’t remember what I learned after I surface. I remember what it felt like, though, and I see that as a gift. (For those of you reading my book on the fiction blog, I think it’s like the Desmayo only made of light instead of darkness. Maybe I did tap the core without the migraine to spur me along, I just didn’t know it.)

To be honest, I might never pursue that inner part of myself with any conviction if I weren’t forced to go there by the pain of a migraine headache. Thank you, Universe for showing me what I look like on the inside. I’m done looking now. No more migraine headaches necessary.

kthxbai.

If fragrance were a man I'd shoot him.

Update: see Poison Scents, my blog dedicated to my fragrance sensitivity.

So this fragrance sensitivity I have, it is the real deal. As you may remember, I took out most everything in my house that contained fragrance and saw an immediate improvement. Over the past couple of weeks I have had much less eye fatigue, no headache, little to no sinus pressure. I’ve had a stuffy nose, but it’s the regular variety. I’m getting to a point where I can live with it.

I was able to find a fragrance-free version of everything in the house, but some things are available only through the internet and cost quite a bit more, such as dishwashing soap, so I’m dragging my feet on those. We’re still using the old Soft Soap, and my husband still uses his Irish Spring (making the concession of keeping it under the cabinet when not in use, not sure that’s good enough), and I’m using my kid’s shampoo since the smell is not nearly as strong as mine.

Everything was peachy…Until I whipped out the carpet stain remover. You know the kind where you spray it on the stain and wait three minutes and blot? That stuff will tear you a new sinus cavity. I didn’t consider as I sprayed it on that even after I blotted, the stuff would still be sitting there, in my carpet, silently giving off noxious fumes. By the end of the day I had a migraine. My first headache in weeks.

The headache is only annoying this morning, but I’ve been sneezing and having trouble focusing already. I tried rinsing and blotting again, but it didn’t work. I guess I have to break out the big guns: the carpet shampooer. Of course I won’t be using shampoo, only rinsing. Just think, I used to make my whole house smell like that shit… *shudder*

No wonder I had migraines.

About The Author

Fantasy author represented by the Sara Camilli Agency. Lives in Oklahoma with kids and a husband. Anti-fragrance. Pro-naps.