It’s been 30, 874 words since I last confessed….

I’m thinking in scene sequence though. So guard your loins and read on. It won’t be pretty…It has a Joss Whedon ending….

*Melissa wakes up and makes tea.*

*Melissa writes more dreck and calls herself triumph when she makes morning word goal of 600 words. Only 8k more to go.*

*Melissa notices wet substance coming out of her left ear. Fear sinks it’s teeth into her gut. It has happened*

*Brain leakage!*

Scene two:

*Melissa makes it to work with a different pair of shoes on each foot, a shirt stained with more brain leakage, and a zombie like smile*

*Melissa locks office door. “Must get to THE END.” Her motivation is simple in this scene: Hopes boss doesn’t come in while she’s typing. And not to ruin keyboard with the riptide coming out of both ears now*

*Sometime during lunch, heroine takes a break. Puts cotton in her ears. By now her eyes have a zombie like glaze to them. “Must Get To THE END!!!”*

*Twitter’s word count. Doesn’t realize she’s only typed “#*$($#(!*#&$” Melina and Karen become concerned.*

Segue into next day…

Scene Three…

* Heroine wakes up. Her hair looks like something a bird lives in. Her children whisper behind their hands, “Mommy, looks strange. Let’s not fight today. She has the look.”*

*By lunch time Melissa is sobbing over keyboard “There is no end in sight. All I wanted to do was finish a book for NANO. I wanted to win. I didn’t want egg on my face this year. The YA idea was incredible. I had to write it. But WHY, OH, WHY THE HUMANITY.*

*Children are now hidden safely in the room*

*Twitters “All…most…done…must..finish…”

*With no brain left for coherent thought, heroine finishes story. Goes back to read the first chapter.*

Segue to next day…

Narrative voice sounds over novel pages: Melissa Blue was fine until she read her novel. She ran out into the streets screaming “THE HORROR!” Her writing friend *Cynthia* predicted her head explosion. Melissa Blue will be remembered for her foolhardy feat. And taught as a tale of caution for all those who NaNo.

And, you’ve never seen rambling like this before…

First, the novel is rocking along. As of 9:11 p.m. I’ve written 9,126 words in three days. My mind is gone. I can’t speak on what it’ll look like on the 30th of this here month.

My children have been fed. My daughter is watching Finding Nemo and I can hear my son playing under the sink, in the cubboards, with my spare car keys. (not enough jingle for my real keys)

You can call me certifiable insane by now. My head is full of this story. I’m thinking of the scene I’m writing and what scene will follow. I really don’t want to stop to take a break, but I have to get up early tomorrow. (Which just means I’ll fall into bed around 12 a.m.)

My house is clean. It hasn’t looked this way since I moved into the house. So I have no excuse to NOT write. I know folks, I did this to myself.

Well, not my house, but the living room, kitchen, bathroom and my room. My children’s rooms looks like disaster areas. One of these days my kids may walk into their room and I’ll never hear from them again.

As I’ve said, at this time I’m ceritifiable.

I never realized how typing fast is a plus until I started NaNo. That 80 words per minute is making my word count look impressive.

Shh. Don’t tell anyone, but this book is craptatic.

I’ve been eating LOTS of Halloween candy. Sugar is sooooo not good with crack in a cup.

My characters are funny.

My characters are supposed to be in their teens, but they sound just like the adults I write except there are no smoldering looks and no sex. No velvet shafts going on here. Nor has anyone said or mentioned the words breasts, mounds, kiss, grasp, (I have used gasp), absolutely no writhing.

Here’s a snippet:

“…There are consequences for everything you do that isn’t part of the natural of things in the magical world. So, when you die the bunny will still live. Unless of course it starves to death.” Cian pulled something else out of the frog. Jalani fought the gag.

“And this is humane?”

“No, it’s science. These frogs died natural deaths. A company shipped them here and voila—anatomy 101.”

No you may not steal my craptastic brillance. Copywritten: The Year of the Certifiable.

If I play “Bust Your Windows” by Jazmine Sullivan one more time, I’m going to be brainwashed into finding one of my ex-boyfriends and busting out their car windows.

My son is now watching his himself in the mirror. I think he’ll be vain when he gets older, but I still love him. Wait–he’s now singing his own made up song: “I’m wiping my mouth!”

I think my daughter actually went into her room. I should call the police for search and rescue.

No, really I’m fine. I’m not certifiable * There is nothing to see here folks.* Yeah, I know. The crazy person is always the last to know. (Just imagine what my book looks like if I’m writing post like this.)

I took my daughter to go see High School Muscial on Friday. If I had a loaded gun by the fifth song in that freaking movie, I wouldn’t have been responsible for my actions. No jury would have convicted me.

This is your brain on NaNo. Just say no.

Seriously, I warned you this would be the ultimate rambling post.

That is all.

Now the hotel is another story. Listen D.C. Marriott we are coming next year. BE PREPARED. RWA forewarns you. LISTEN. You are NOT equipped. Every hotel we’ve been to has said this after we leave. Every business in a five mile radius has said this. Don’t think maybe the other hotel just didn’t have good management. NO, you idiot, we descend. BE PREPARED.

That’s all I’m saying.

Now I must get on my train to take me back to the real world. I will no longer be extrovert Melissa. She’ll come out again next year. She’s going to need that year long rest anyway.

So, until next year ’cause trust me I’m counting down the days.

You should know the deal by now….

1. I’m going to be on Author Talk. You know the funny online show Jill Monroe and Gena Showalter(sp?). Yeah, I’m the chocolate drop in the front. I totally used method acting. Could be from all those Actor Studio’s I watch. Stellar performance.

2. Snort to number 1. But I will be on there. Not so sure of the acting.

3. You cannot offer me all the free books in the world to be on my feet for a moment longer. There are 4 publisher signings going on right now. When I saw a lot of books. I mean a lot of books. But you can’t make me.

4. It could be all the alcohol I’ve consumed while here. I’m not certain, but I have a suspicion it has a lot to do with it. So for every one planning to go next year. Here’s some advice: Either don’t drink at all. Or start training before you go to D.C. You know kind of like before you train for a marathon. One drink at night. Then two. Until you can consume a fair amount and not feel like crap the next morning.

5. Yes, I know, I’m not completely sane.

6. Being extrovert Melissa is going to haunt me. I’ve been cracking jokes by the hour here. You know being my inappropriate self. There will be stories. Don’t listen to them. It’s all myth.

7. Snort to number 6.

8. I talked to my dream agent this afternoon. I didn’t make a complete fool of myself. You should be proud of me. Though I think I did have a deer in headlights look. She’ll definitely remember me. I’m not sure that’s a good thing.

9. I’m totally going to sleep after this post.

10. I’m totally still thinking of putting the comforter in my luggage. I wonder if the hotel will notice?

11. That’s all I’ve got because my brain is slowly leaking out my ears and I know I’m not the only attendee who feels that way. So, until next Confessions.

I confessed yesterday.

1.At some point in the conference everything becomes a blur. I’ve finally hit that blur. My hotel room is a sanctuary. It’s quiet. And it’s quiet. What more could I ask for?

2. Oh, right books. Check out the loot.

Yeah, just imagine how much that many books would cost at B & N and you’ll see why National’s is so dang worth it. I just got back half of my registration. And there are at least 9 more signings in the next two days. Hog heaven I tells ya.

3. Last night I acted wild. I ended up on the Publisher’s Weekly blog. TWICE. Hopefully, it won’t show all I did, because really that type of stuff can haunt you. But ask me if I care.

4. Okay, I didn’t really act wild, but liquor was involved. Yet, I’m so jealous I wasn’t as knockered as my fellow Cherry. She was a fun drunk. She actuallly started singing Pirate songs in the Lobby. And she’ll probably kill me IF she finds out abut this picture.

I did have one of these and it was fan-tab. A Frozen Peach Bellini. Fan-tab.

4. I’m still trying to figure out a way to get that comforter into my luggage.

5. I also had a blast at the PJ party again. And I chatted with Trish Wylie. I love this woman and she remembered me, which just makes her my most favorite-test person ever.

6. Partying like this isn’t without it’s consequences. I woke up this morning looking like road kill and who did it and what for. Be rest assured I am back to being the Diva Beautiful woman I am.

7. I could tell you loads more, but then I’d have to kill ya. We don’t want that, but trust me National’s is worth every penny. Also, I’m so doing this over again tonight.

1. I’m not a thief or anything, but I’m trying to figure out a way to stuff the down comforter on my bed into my luggage. That thing is wonderful. Since I don’t steal I’m going to buy one.

2. This hotel tries to charge you for breathing. It’s really starting to get irritating.

3. Oh, this morning I needed Tylenol and coffee in that order. If I tell you why I’d have to kill ya.

4. Okay, I’ll confess I met up with some Divas last night and had a kicking Margarita. Those things are going to make me an alcoholic.

5. I know I’m going to need it again tomorrow because not only am I meeting up with 70 something Divas, but I’m meeting some fan-tab Cherries.

6. I plan to have Pam, my bestest bud, paged to the front desk if I don’t see her by tomorrow. *shh, don’t tell her. I want it to be a surprise.*

7. That’s all I’ve got for you. I’ll be back with juicy stuff. Trust me.

It has been 24 hours since I last confessed….

1. No matter the time in the morning I must look fabulous. And if that means slapping on sunglasses to hide the fact the bags under my eyes may be heavier than the 50 pound limit on Amtrak…then that’s what I do.

2.Because when it comes to being a writer Discipline is next getting and staying Published I wrote during the entire five hour trip.

3. Of course since I’m cultured and well traveled I didn’t start snapping pictures like a tourist at the first sight of San Francisco. I took note of it, but it’s not like I went wild or anything. Okay, maybe a little

4. But I did not jump on this. I’m a grown up. *snort*

5. My last confession. I will be making a voodoo of the guy who checked me in. He charged me $200 more than he was supposed. I spent two hours trying to get that mess fixed. You suck. You will be stuck with pens. And I will tell all my writer friends. Let’s see who ends up dead in a romantic suspense.

That is all. Must go to the bar.

*I’ve decided to do my tales of conference in confessional style.*

It has been such a very, very long time since I last confessed…..

1. My mother is ready to shoot me to put herself out of her misery. What she doesn’t know is that my level of excitement is only going to get worse.

2. Related to number 1: I know it wrong to wake someone up at 6:50 a.m. in the morning just to say,” This time tomorrow I’ll be on the train. Squee!!!”

3. It’s even worse to call that same person at 11:30 to say, “This time tomorrow I’ll be in San Francisco.”

4. 30 minutes later,” I’ll be in my hotel room.”

5. 30 minutes later,” I’ll be registered for the conference. Ooooh, I wonder what books they’ll put in the bag this year.”

6. 30 minutes later leaving a message on the person’s phone. (Yes, they have stopped answering the phone. I have no idea why.) “I’ll be drinking in the bar.”

7. In between these moments of pure excitement are moments of panic for many, many reasons. *Pam* My hair is sooo not done. At the moment I look like Buckwheat. I need to wash the rest of the clothes I’m going to wear. I need to double check that I’ve got everything. And really I’m going to conference and am aware I’m liable to put my foot in my mouth. Or get stuck with the Bitter Author. I did last year and saw no one to help me escape.

But I digress.

8. Uh, just a word of advice don’t take a class in summer school if you plan to go to conference. I have to take a final today. Which would normally not put me in a dither. Either you know it or you don’t by this time. But because of my little near death experience I missed a lot of class. So…there is a lot I don’t know. Cue panic button.

9. Okay, this is my last confession and I might as well admit something so…well…here it is: When I get home and the day is over I’m going to unpack just to repack so that I can feel the excitement of “I’m going to National’s” again. I’m sick I know, but I’m still doing it.

You can confess in the comments. Just do a few hail mary’s and you’re forgiven.

It has been two months since I last confessed…

Today I’m not going to talk about things in books that makes my eye twitch. I’m going to talk to you folks about a very serious issue. I’m going to talk about my addiction. I’m so ashamed to admit this to you guys. But I really feel this post just might help someone who like me…is addicted to the Internet.

Yes, I know, shocking. But see it started innocent enough. I used dial up—which I’ve now learned is a gateway to worse things, things that any human should never stoop to—I’d check my e-mails. I’d do research for my book. Then I started to frequent this popular forum called The Cherries. They’d post topics and leave links. I knew better. I’ve…heard about how one link can lead to another, but it was just so tempting to see the hoopla of LOLcats. And then I did something that I now regret.

I upgraded to DSL.

I’m sorry I need a moment….

Things start to blur at this point. I could now watch videos on Youtube. I could, I’m so shamed to say it…Blog hop. Yes, I know. I feel dirty at how many blogs I left comments on and never returned to. Okay, okay, I was being promiscuous. I’d been burned so badly by dial-up I had to find a way to comfort myself. Those long wait times to upload pages that only left me with “error on page” messages. I needed something to help me forget those dark and horrid days.

I digress.

And then I started my own blog. I built up a clientèle and started to push my own rambling thoughts to others. I referred those poor innocent people to my blog roll that would only introduce them to the same addictive behavior I’d learn to love and hate.

These past few days have been enlightening for me. I didn’t have 24 hour access. I couldn’t leave fly by night comments. I couldn’t…link in. I started to have withdrawals.

But when I offered my neighbor to have their way with me just for an hour of their bandwidth, I knew I’d hit rock bottom. I was a NetHead of the worse kind. I could see myself tap dancing on the corner to scrounge up enough change to pay my monthly bill. I saw myself doing unspeakable things to my modem just to get it to connect. I didn’t want to be that person.

But today folks I’m here to tell you that it’s not worth it. Don’t be like me, a NetHead. Oh, dear baby jesus, I’m a NETHEAD. You can stop the addiction now. Don’t be peer pressured to click that link. I’ll have to live with what I did for a bandwidth. You don’t.

sigh

Hi, my is Melissa, and I’m addicted to the Internet.

To find out more information on Crystal Net check out the archives.