This last week has been … well … bleh. I hate being sick. What a huge waste of time.
We Greenwoods are terrible at being sick. It’s Dad’s fault. I don’t know if that man ever really took a sick day unless surgery was involved. And it annoyed him to no end if Mom was sick. I distinctly remember her being down for the count after a series of back problems. He was simply furious that she couldn’t pull it together and get up and moving. Dad insisted that she had twenty-four hours to get over whatever it was she was doing. There was no ‘or else,’ simply ‘do it.’
Now, the funny thing is that Mom didn’t put up with us being sick either. We didn’t get away with much, that’s for sure. When we were truly ill, she brought home comic books and ice cream to make us happier, took us to the doctor when necessary, but we didn’t get any opportunities to wallow. And if we were home from school, we weren’t sitting in front of the television enjoying the day – we were either in bed at death’s door or we were doing something constructive around the house.
It was easier to just not be sick.
I felt bad enough for a few days to not have any energy to be creative, so little writing happened (though I was all better last night – whee!), but I did spend several solid twelve hour days editing my brother’s (Jamie McFarlane) newest fantasy tale – Lesser Prince. I love the way that boy writes. He’s always been a storyteller. He can describe an event in such incredible detail that you are right there with him, panting for the end.
My favorite story about his tale-telling, happened in Mom’s hospital room the week before she died. Jim described the events of his first trip down a ski-slope. All of a sudden I was right there with him as this extremely athletic friend of his desperately tried to make it a good experience for a complete novice. I watched as his friend, in an attempt to get Jim’s skis going in the right direction, skied backwards with his hands holding the tips of the skis, trying to align them correctly. Parker was bent over and Jim – out of control, ending up pressing Parker’s face further and further into the wet snow. My poor brother was just glad to get to the bottom of the slope … four hours later, dignity left somewhere in the first hundred yards.
As Jim told this story, Mom and I both started laughing so hard we could barely contain ourselves. I was nearly sick with laughter. I’m probably one of my brother’s best audiences. As I lost control, he kept amping the story up, ensuring I’d never come up for air. Poor Dad was so worried about everyone else on the floor that he quietly got up and shut the door to the room and begged me to regain a sense of decorum. I was too far gone.
It’s always been that way, I guess. I can remember many other instances where Jim has had me on the floor in laughter. And I mean that literally. It’s easier to just prepare myself for loss of control when he is ready to tell a story.
Because he does so well with this, I asked him to write a couple of action / chase scenes for the next book in the Bellingwood series. Seriously, folks, I was panting by the time I finished reading them. They’re awesome! I can’t write like that. It’s not my thing. I will get you from Point A to Point B, but he will take you on a rollercoaster ride all over the pavement and up into the air and through ditches and … well, you’ll just be glad you took the ride.
I’m getting so close on Book 8. Max and I are looking at images for the cover, I’ve not yet begun to stress over the title – that will come later, and I’m looking forward to getting this finished, initially edited and into the hands of my Beta Readers soon. It’s going to happen, I promise!
Here is this week’s progress – do you see that I’m at the 80% mark for Polly? Awesome!