One of my chapter mates has a very clever tag line about her novels. Abbie Roads always gives her hero and heroine a happy ending… after torturing them for three hundred pages.
As writers, we are taught to pile on the drama. It's okay to have your hero and heroine bask in the glow of their new relationship, but not for long. Just when things are going along well, it's time to throw a monkey wrench into the satisfied smirks of your characters.
Last week was a case of art imitating life for me. My hip was doing well. I even went so far as to proclaim it didn't hurt at all, unheard of after a year of constant pain. My brother came to visit for two weeks, sharing the gift of his time with us. My edits came in for the final book in the Cotillion Ball Series, and they aren't bad. I'd even go so far as to say I had a smirk on my face. Then, the monkey wrench came in. I developed a DVT, since I didn't take the right dosage of aspirin following my surgery, and ended up, yet again, in the hospital.
I'm home once more, and will probably be on blood thinners for the rest of my life. If there's an easy way to do things, what fun would that be? As Abbie says, I need to be tortured for 300 pages, in order to fully appreciate my happy ever after.
My brother took off this morning to head back to CA. The edits are patiently waiting for my head to clear enough to deal with them. My hip still doesn't hurt, although my calf muscle is still quite sore. Life is getting back to normal. Or as normal as it gets around here.
Happy New Year, everyone. Let's hope for brighter days ahead.
