I’ve been planning to write a post for about a month, but every time I sit down to do it, I get more ideas than I want and end up getting a headache and taking a walk. I guess I should give a little background as to where I’ve been for the past year and a halfish. I have been (insert eerie music) nowhere and almost everywhere. Fuzzy brain fogs are like that. When your body decides to go a little haywire and you don’t know why, every ounce of focus and attention gets funneled into figuring out what’s wrong or avoiding it all together, and I’ve had fun with both. While I won’t go into a massive amount of detail, I will say that it’s nice to be able to hold onto a thought for more than twenty minutes again. Not being able to focus on a single story thread or come up with even fifteen percent of the words I wanted to use but couldn’t pick out of a lineup frustrated me to the point of almost deserting my fictional worlds without a backward glance. The tiny sparks of clarity that would flare at the strangest times kept me interested in an attempt to type coherent sentences.
Besides having a brain that wouldn’t cooperate, three of my furry feline friends aged beyond their bodies and died during the year. All three lived full lives. Two were seventeen year old siblings and one was somewhere between twenty-three and twenty-six. With two cats remaining, the house seems awfully quiet. I can’t call myself the crazy cat girl anymore. It’s quite an adjustment.
Why come back now? It’s about time, don’t you think? Two new stories have been published. I’ve started getting story ideas without racking my brain to come with them. The monsters in my head are getting restless. And look out world, I have a lot of purging to do.