by Nicole Willson
So it’s been a while. Sorry about that. I really am going to try to get better about this.
2015 has been relatively quiet thus far, and after the sheer hell that was the second half of 2014, quiet is good. Awesome, even.
Just yesterday, I got the results of a CT scan and ultrasound that were done to check up on the blood clots that made my December so memorable. And I’m happy to report that those clots are gone, baby, gone. I’m still going to be on blood thinners for at least a year; we learned that I have a genetic mutation that makes me prone to clotting, so my doctor is not in any hurry to take me off the meds. And thanks to a yucky blood thinner side effect that I won’t get into here, I’m quite anemic and have had to up my iron intake significantly. But at least that’s an easily treatable problem. And for now, I don’t feel like I’m walking around with a ticking time bomb in my body anymore. The clots are gone. What’s left of my appendix is gone. I’ve only been to a hospital once this year and that was a scheduled visit for the tests. This is good.
How’s the writing going? I’m at a scary point with Book One because I really feel like it might be close to done. Maybe. At the very least, I’ve gone through the most recent draft and no longer feel that I need to make any more major structural changes. The book might still need fine-tuning (hell, I’m sure it does), but I really want to start sending out the first queries on this thing soon. I’m just not sure how I know when it’s really ready.
It’s April, but I didn’t sign up for this round of Camp NaNoWriMo. I have several different possible projects I could be working on, and the choices ended up overwhelming me. I could start querying Book One. I could work on editing the next two books in that trilogy. I could take a second stab at my most recent NaNoWriMo effort.
The one last choice that’s been making me crazy is the possibility of starting my fifth book. The idea came to me a couple of weeks ago after Bill and I saw “It Follows” at the Alamo Drafthouse. (I liked “It Follows”. I didn’t love it the way some others have. I thought “The Babadook” was far more original and engaging; I would have written about it back in December but we saw it on the same weekend that the DVT/PE combo happened and the Babadook almost got me.) “It Follows” reminded me of a nightmare I’d had way back in college, a nightmare that was so vivid that I jumped out of bed and wrote it all down the minute I woke up and can still vividly recall it nearly 25 years later. And as I was recounting the nightmare to Bill, it occurred to me that I could spin an entire novel out of this premise.
And I’ve already envisioned a good bit about the main character and the storyline and part of me really really wants to start writing this right now, but another part of me wants to just do the prep work and wait for November to begin. I really like the November NaNo ritual. There’s just something amazing and energizing about sitting down at my laptop on November 1st and allowing the first chapters of a story I’ve been kicking around for months to come forth and start taking shape at last. I’d hate to deprive myself of that.
But hooray — I have a fifth book idea, and possibly a sixth! For someone who used to shy away from the idea of writing novels because I didn’t believe I could ever come up with a story idea big enough to sustain one, I’ve had a surprising number of them.
Other stuff I’ve been up to:
I finally got to meet and have my picture taken with a skater I’ve been a fan of for a long time, Evan Lysacek:
Yes, he’s really that tall. And I’m really that dorky.
I’d followed Evan’s career from when he was a junior skater, so watching him rise all the way to Olympic Gold was extremely cool.
We saw cherry blossoms at the DC Tidal Basin last week.
I dyed my hair red. It used to be sort of red naturally, but as I’ve gotten older it’s just gone all mousy brown tinged with gray, and that’s no fun.
In general I’ve been trying to get my footing back after a very scary 2014. So far it’s been a pretty good year.