The Goddamn Dishes

On October 31st, 2014, I lived in a one bedroom apartment with my husband a bit south of San Diego. There was a hostage situation involving midgets 2 blocks from our house and the dishwasher didn't work.

My sister started to poke at me that November was National Novel Writing Month and I had to do it. I had to. Had to do it. Had to. Being the good little sibling I am, I told my husband to ignore the dishes in the sink, I was going to write a novel.

So I sat down at my desk and started writing the first thing that came into my head, loosely based on a memoir I never wrote, a short story I never finished, a dream I had and some mysterious notes I found on my desk one afternoon that had been preceded by some serious shower vodka. I finished that novel, and then the next issue arose.

I did not want to edit.

So I wrote a new novel, that, conveniently, could allegedly be read before or after the first novel and either way would give new information and revelations, which sounds ambitious, but is a fancy way of making sure I had an excuse not to polish off the first novel, because naturally they both need to be open at once.

And I finished that novel.

And I still did not want to edit.

So I painted, did the dishes, went to the dentist, got help for my severe depression, completed EDMR therapy, started a garden, found some semblance of religion, taught myself to crochet, moved to another place where the dishwasher also did not work, started buying paper plates, started a blog (hello!) and then I started to rewrite and edit.

But there was another problem. I needed to write a sex scene and I could not get through it without sitting arm's length from my laptop and making a constant ewie eew eww ewwwwwww face. So I practiced for a week until it felt natural so I could go back and do those rewrites on my novels. Armed with all the knowledge I needed...

I started another novel.

I broke my personal record and hit 50 thousand words in two weeks and lost interest.

So I did the dishes, took a vacation, started the process of obtaining my very own child, wrote the end of the novel, hated the novel, started learning Dutch, deleted half the novel, got the child, moved to Oregon, made the child do the dishes in the dishwasher that actually works...

and finally finished the novel.

So where is this going, you may wonder. Did Met start a fourth novel? Is Met announcing that one of her books is out in the world for people to read? Are they looking for beta readers? Moving to the mountains to be a hermit? Promoting child labor?

No to all of those.

I started a fucking etsy.

Here's the link if you are interested. The link is here if you aren't interested too.

I'm going to try to get back into blogging. I lost this last month to NaNoWriMo, the four day hangover that I experienced after Halloween, some depression bullshit, setting up business stuff and apparently partnering with my friend at Pawsitive Pooch Training getting artwork done for their office space.

To thank the 5 people who read my blog and play favorites, until the 23rd of November, 2017 you can use the code "GODDAMNDISHES" to get 15% off your order. It's our secret. shhh.

All my productivity is just thinly veiled procrastination...