Coming To The End

I’m in the homestretch on Bite Me Later (what a crappy name–what was I thinking?). Only a couple thousand words to go to get the body of it done, then there’s nothing but the tweaking and the crying left. And there will be crying. And gnashing of teeth and wondering why I ever thought I could write in the first place.

In aid of maintaining at least a semblance of normal mental health during this stressful time, I raided the local grocery and feed stores today.

First off, I made sure I don’t have to make an emergency run to town for food for the beasts. I have fish food, cat food, hamster food, and horse food. We’re good.

Next is to make sure I have food. Specifically, snacks.
snacks Relatively healthy snacks. There’s also grapes and oatmeal cookies, avocadoes, coconut milk for curry, raspberries and blueberries and apples. I tend to stop cooking at this point in a manuscript, so there’s things the kitten can make for herself–tuna, pizza pockets, perogis, salmon, peanut butter, eggs. I’m a grumpy cat at the end of a book, and it is therefore much better for everyone’s health and personal safety if they can keep a certain minimum distance between us.

coffeeTo go along with the snacks, there’s the staple of every writer’s cupboard. Coffee.


This is not all the coffee. Not by a long shot.






comfiesAfter eating all those snacks, it’s doubtful I’ll still fit into any of my regular clothes, so comfy writing clothes are a must. It’s been ridiculously warm and humid here the past week, so I’m prepared. I can always put my parka on over them, right?









And finally, when it’s all over, even the crying, there’s two fancy plastic wine glasses that I bought on a whim because they made me think of a castle. glasses Until the book is finished, there’s no alcohol in the house. Despite alcohol’s amazing anti-anxiety properties (true story–look it up at any reliable medical website.), it also has a tendency to depress creativity unless you can walk that fine line. And, for those of us that suffer from anxiety, it’s a line that’s easy to miss while you’re enjoying your temporary reprieve from the constant, low-level freaking out that is our daily existence. So, no alcohol, until the werewolves and the weresquirrel are GONE. Then it’s all alcohol, all the time. 🙂

Not really.


This also means withdrawing a bit from the world. I’m skipping Tuesday Tickle this week, so if anyone has a book they want to pimp, drop me a line at katelowellbooks (at) gmail.com. Twitter convos are hit and miss–I’m leaving notifications up, but not much else. Facebook–well, it’s not like I put much up there anyway, right? I suck at social media.

And let’s hope for a Happy Dance post on Monday or Tuesday that the darn thing is gone to beta.

2 responses to “Coming To The End

  1. > It’s been ridiculously warm and humid here the past week

    I’m picturing it’s in the low forties (Fahrenheit), and raining. Am I close?

  2. Close. Pretty much any time I can throw water out the door and it doesn’t turn instantly to ice, I’m complaining it’s hot and humid. ‘Cause, you know–Canada.

    I really should stop contributing to this massive body of disinformation about my country.

    Wait, is that snow?

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