In Too Deep,

I can already tell that this is going to be one of those blogs that I write more for me, and then look at and think, okay, maybe don't publish that, because of the fear that it leaves me feeling a little exposed. 

I'm sat here listening to what can only be called Romantic Ballads (no, seriously, that's what the Spotify playlist called them) and I can't say that it is helping with the whole effort of not getting emotional. 

Almost a year ago, a relationship that I had been in for a long time, and which I had emotionally committed to in such a thorough way came crashing to a not so abrupt end. It had been a long drawn out process that I can genuinely say wasn't helpful or healthy for either of us, and the truth is that it took a very long time for me to pick myself back up after that. A very long time.

Despite that, I worked on building the life that I wanted, which is an ongoing goal, but I am in a much better position now that I was 12 months ago. 

Now, I'm not going to say I'm over it, because I don't think I could commit myself to that, but I have got to the point where I could be happy, and that's dangerous.

Dangerous? Well, yes. Despite the fact that I can be alone, I can do things by myself and only be mildly uncomfortable, I am happy with my own company and don't really need to leave the house at weekends if I don't want to, the dangerous thing is, I like being in a relationship. 

I like having that special person I speak to all the time, that I can feel close to and that I can laugh with. I like having that commitment to that person. I don't know why, I just do. 

And danger occured. 

Out of nowhere - I wasn't even looking for once, appeared this man. In my usual styling, I'm not going to put his name on here, but C walked into my life quite casually, and then that was it; he was there. 

I'm not going to say that meeting him felt like nothing I had ever been through before, because it was like something I had before, and maybe that was part of the problem. In the space of when I stopped writing these blogs and when I started again, I met him, I started dating him, I stopped dating him and I realised I had fallen for him. And I also realised how much I hated that I let myself fall for him. 

Now, I know it's not like you get a choice in it, but really, I should have known better. He's in a place in my life that it will be a while before he will be gone, or I would have to do something drastic to get rid of him, and I don't want to do that. Partly because I don't want rid of him from my life. The beautiful thing about it has been that despite the fact that there have been tears, there has been pain, and there has been a bit of heart break, on my side at least, it's been pretty amiable. Most of my breakups have been screaming arguments or accusations and all that sort of thing - this has been a very polite, I guess. 

So, why am I mentioning this? Well, because, right at this moment, I don't want to write anything to do with romance, because it makes me want to tear my own eyelids off. I also don't want to ruin the thing that I wrote for NaNo by writing something stupid like, and they broke up because happy endings are for Disney and everything sucks. But where would we be if I didn't have an excuse for not writing? 

Catch you later.

Priorities,

Christmas and family make you think about your priorities a lot, and with the new year looming people begin to think about New Year's Resolutions. 

I might have mentioned previously that I am taking part in Veganuary. I want to do it to prove to myself that I can, and to explore the different culinary options available. Part of the idea is going to be seeing if I can actually drop the amount of meat products I have in my diet as a long term plan, though the success of that is to be measured later. 

My other "resolution" is to aim, as thoroughly as humanly possible, at getting my own place. 

I don't do overly well living with other humans because I like things to be a certain way. I like to know that when I am planning, on the train home, to cook a meal in a certain way that the knives for cutting things and the board I like are there and ready to be used. I also like to know that no one has eaten any of my ingredients, though that has happened before now. 

As much as I remember the solitude which can be created, because I felt that plenty of times in my little studio flat, it can also be wonderful to be able to come home after a really shitty day and be able to shut the door on everything else. You can shut the door and leave it outside along with anyone that you don't want to invite to cross your threshold. There is a stability and a sense of home which I don't really get from living in a shared house. Granted, I'm going to have to deal with that in case of a significant other, or kids or whatever, but still, it would be nice to have some time and space to myself and it is something I can't wait to create. 

The idea of a home is something really important to me and a lot of the things which are left at my mother's house are actually things I want for my future flat. I would probably have chosen the wall colours by now if I didn't know that it was going to be at least a few years before I was actually able to put paint on my own walls. 

Ah well, onwards and upwards...

It's Only Taken 3 Months,

It's only month 3 of 2016, and I managed to skip a blog post date. Sorry for anyone who missed my weekly rant/narration on how life, the universe and novel-ing was going, but there were a couple of things happening, not all of which I want to share on the internet. 

The big thing that's going on at the moment is I'm trying to cure my anti-social attitude. I have an appalling habit of avoiding everyone and refusing to meet new people, and it seriously needs to be, well, fixed, so I'm trying to be a bit more social. Unfortunately, I'm more of a caterpillar than a butterfly however that could easily change.

I'm hoping that, as a result of this, I will have some more interesting things to talk/write about on here, and also hoping that spending more time actually doing things will help to motivate me towards actually getting things done in terms of writing and editing and publishing; that's something only time will tell with though. I'm doing my best, but I can't predict the future. 

I have something else to own up to as well, and that wouldn't have been something anyone would have known really without me confessing, but what I was hoping to do, and now will not be doing, is launching the e-book on Saturday.

As some of you may know, the fifth anniversary of the publication of Fairies passed on 24th February this year. When I committed myself again to editing the novel, I never imagined I would get it done by then (partly because I also need to give my beta readers some time to get through reading it and then make any changes based on their feedback) but I had hoped that it would all be ready to go, even if just on the Kindle, in time for my 23rd birthday. Unfortunately, that's not the case I've left myself with.

I would like to point out that it's not because I didn't want to do it, but instead it was a lack of motivation to do it. When I come out of work, all I want to do is sleep or catch up on TV shows. It's the same at the weekend, and pushing yourself to do something else which feels like work is hard, especially when the getting paid for it never actually happens. I got annoyed a few days ago because there was a chart on Facebook showing the difference between the cost of textbooks and what we call 'recreational books.' The point that the article/video attached was trying to make was that the cost of textbooks is pushing up the cost of studying, and while I partly agree, I would like to point out - libraries. The issue that I take with the same data is that yes, as a 'recreational' writer, the amount of research you have to do to write your book is significantly less, but if you're not working with a publisher or an editor (I'm just going to point out that one of the reasons I don't work with an editor is that I can't afford to) you do all of that work yourself. There is a whole lot of legwork to getting a book self-published and it feels like a real kick in the pants to know that if you don't put the book online for the cheapest you can without losing money (so literally subsidising the cost of people reading your books in order to get more copies out there) there is little chance that they're going to sell to someone you don't know, and they're the sales that you need to boost.

I get tired and frustrated because other than people that I have met randomly and told about my novel, the majority of the downloads of it come from free promotions and whilst that is a trend I understand, and I do appreciate the downloads during that time, it sucks that regarding doing what I want to do with my life, it's nowhere near a financially viable option. And yes, there is more to my writing than making money. It's something I really enjoy doing, and it is something I will continue to do. All I ask is that people understand that it can be hugely disheartening. I am on the road to having Yours, edited though, and since I'm off work for a few days at the moment, I'm still plugging away at it. 

Rant over.