Writing Progress... I AM FINISHED!!!!!!!!!

February 1, 2007.


1002 pages.

273,072 words.

some 22 months later...

I am happy to say . . . I AM FINISHED.

Yes... I have finished my romantic suspense SWEET HEAT manuscript. I am DONE.



I have finished the first draft, that is... I have to do a lot of cutting, revising, editing etc... I ain't smart enough to figure all that out, man.

But I ain't worried about all that.

I am just happy to be DONE. I can honestly say that I am able to put togther a bunch of words and make a story out of it. Even chocked it full of twists and turns and turns and twists.

This was MUCH harder than writing my dissertation. Humph.

I finished it all up sans my laptop. I was feeling a bit shell shocked without it (especially since ALL my music and photos are on it, too), but I came up with some bootleg tactics to get my writing done. It is being repaired right now (It has been gone for over two weeks!! UGGH!!!) I may have to buy a smaller second laptop eventually. I have used the busted one so much that some of the letters have rubbed off.

Goodness graciuos.

I have a few readers that have hung in there for close to two years... reading, whining, acting silly, getting all pissed off at me. (That ish was funny! Remember peeps, these were imaginary characters!) My bootleg "work-for-free" editor Ol' Mean Ass Cynthia was thoroughly pleased with the ending. My other bootleg "work-for-free" editor Sunshine wasn't all that happy because the ending turned out to something she didn't expect. She didn't have much to say to me yesterday.

I was sad about that. (Yeah right!)

She can go sit on a TACK, she can.

I like the ending, and that is all that matters. I HATE happy predictable endings. Give me a happy UNPREDICTABLE ending any day... Or a sad ending... I like that!

Interestingly, one of my coworkers, a light-eyed chick who my brother Milk and Cookies feens over (yeah, I'm talking about YOU, Melissa) enjoyed it so much that she wants me to just keep it going.

My answer to that was #&*$@&@*# !!!!!

Yeah... you figure out what that means. But there are about 10 lil' offshoot stories that can jump off of this manuscript. I will most definitely be thinking about that.

But right now? I just want to enjoy the fact that the first draft is DONE. I am doing a lot of re-reading and printing these days. I won a manuscript edit late last year, and I need to send it off.

When she gets it, I know she gonna be like... WTF?????

Oh well... I need the help something terrible. I am interested in what is said about it. Hope to have it all printed up and thrown in a manuscript box by the 15th...

And that's the immediate plan for now.

So I want to give a shout out to my critiquers - Ol' Mean Ass Cynthia, Sunshine, Regina, Que, The Darth Sista T, the Good Sista, Hen-Dog, Gigi, Cowgirl Cre, Tisha, Alex, LadyBug Mocha, Melissa, my book club sista Kim- We have all been in heavy discussion from the get go, almost two years ago. A bunch of ya'll have bitched me out, made helpful suggestions, asked A LOT of questions that made me think HARD, and just overall helped me trudge through it all...

You didn't have to do it... but you did. And for that I am thankful.

What's next for me? Sending this thing off to have it edited. I will work it out from there.

Right now, I am writing one short story a month, and I have a little Science-fiction idea that I am working on. (It is set in a rural area, so I am doing a little traveling next weekend to Ol' Mean Ass Cynthia's country ass hometown to do a little research.) A couple of the offshoot stories from the Sweet Heat manuscript are on my mind, so I am working on those, too.

There was a manuscript that I was working on before Sweet Heat. I got a 100 pages into it and decided that it was just too complicated and I needed to write something simpler and shorter (What a laugh!). I will post parts of that old manuscript on my blog, since I don't plan on doing anything with it, because it is quite, um interesting...

All I gotta say is that I feel like a HUUUUUGGGGE weight has been lifted off OFF MY SHOULDERS!!!!

***LadyLee exhaling hard***

Not gonna Cry...

**For Dazz... okay, I am delivering on the bet. Hope you are happy.

Alright, here is one of my throwaway manuscript excerpts. One that bothers me on a deep level (probably the reason I printed it, balled it up, and kicked it across the room a while ago... I'll explain following the exerpt.) So this is for you, Dazz... you Caramel Cutie....

Excerpt: My main character Vaughn waking up in the morning...

"Samuel, baby, could you please turn off the alarm?” I moaned, as I did every morning. I gathered the soft Egyptian cotton sheets around my body and buried my face deeper into the pillow. He usually caught it by the fourth beep, but sometimes he let it keep beeping, just to mess with me.

“Samuel, please, get that! Hit the snooze button. Ten more minutes, please!” I was bracing myself for his antics… some tickling, some grabbing, some kicking. He didn’t do any of that. He was unusually quiet.

“Uggh!” I groaned. I rolled over to get the alarm myself. This always turned out to be a good thing because I would have to roll over his warm massive body and be enveloped in a big sensual hug. Sometimes he would hit the snooze button while he held me and we’d just lie there and talk. Other times we made the sweetest love.
But today, I rolled over only to stare at blank empty space.

Dark empty space.

It alarmed me more than the insistent clamor of the alarm clock.

Samuel wasn’t here in my bed. I only dreamt that he was.

It was as if a light switch had been flipped. The dream had been turned off, and I was left with the monotonous whir of the ceiling fan.

“You will not cry this morning,” I said aloud to myself. “You won’t. Not today.”

But the pain was there, standing strong in the midst of my heart. Pain had been following me all weekend long, whispering and nudging nonstop, reminding me of how much I missed him.

Reminding me of how much I yearned for him.

“No, you’re not going to cry this morning. Not this morning.”

And now it was Monday morning, three whole days since I’d last seen or talked to Samuel. And that Monday morning, unlike the past two mornings, I did not cry. The only way I kept the monkey off my back was to remind myself that Samuel had hurt me.

The pain was replaced by anger then, if only for a moment.

But only for a moment.

Oh yes, the pain would crouch in a dusty corner of my heart, as if on a much deserved coffee break. But it would quickly return, refreshed and ready, in bright bold technicolor.

I raised up on my forearms and placed my face in my hands. “I am not supposed to be feeling like this. I am supposed to hate you, Samuel,” I declared.

Okay, enough of that...

So, sometime in late December, the "Caramel Cutie" tells me something late one night on the phone.

"LadyLee, you're emotionally distant."

I held the phone, Thought about what he said.

And I agreed with him. And that threw him for a loop.

Yeah, I am emotionally distant. But is that a sin or something? I don't think so. I don't get emotionally caught up, especially with negroes that I have no business getting caught up with. I think once a person gets a certain age, then some maturity should kick in somewhere.

I often look back at my twenties, and analyzed my behavior. This is not difficult to do, since I do have a few journals I kept in my twenties. I see a common thread. I always had weird agendas (common back then, but alas, weird to me now.)

I was one of the types, and I know a lot of ladies will admit this... I'd meet a dude, and make my decisions and get my agenda together real quick if I liked him.

"Yeah, I'ma do him."

So what if he has bad credit. So what if he has too many baby mamas. So what if he can't keep a job. So what if he is abusive. Who cares if he can't keep a job.

Don't matter. I was always thinking...

"Yeah, I'ma do him!"

Fast forward. I'm in my mid-thirties now. Have had several relationships. Been married, even. And I can see a common thread. I knew I had no business dealing with certain dudes, but um, it wasn't important. I could cut loose when it was time to cut loose, right?

Wrong.

I would end up feeling the way that my character Vaughn was feeling above... walking around all upset, shut up in the house, crying for days...

... Trying to pull myself together, convincing myself not to cry, trying to stifle the pain of it all.

In other words, dealing with the effects of emotional attachment and trying to let go.

So as a result, being the emotionally extreme female that I am (I'm black and white about a lot of stuff; there's no gray area), I stay on the other side of the spectrum.

I choose to remain emotionally distant.

Am I wrong for that? No. It's my perogative. Am I still aching over some past lost love? No. My life is better since the dead weight has been removed.

I'm just older and smarter now. If I see an issue that irks me straight out, I don't overlook it, and I sure as hell ain't down for trying to change people. Heck, I got too much self-help and assessment I need to work out for my ownself as it is...

But that's just me... If I can help, I'm not gonna end up crying...

Enough said.

Snake BITES: "Life's Struggles"

In Life's Struggle
My brothers had to hustle
But as time passed
The hustling didn't last.
So if your task has begun
Don't leave until it's done.
Be the labor great or small,
Do it well...

Or not at all.

I have a son who's 17 years old
He grew dreads in his head,
Lived as if there's no control,
Disobeyed some of the things he was told,
Even though he's aware that he's living off other people's prayers.

One day he realized that prayers are definitely needed
Because life is a constant process
...Of relating and struggles.

Gettin' POSTAL and SCANDALOUS on Ya!!!

(Note:Click here for introductory post: "Gettin' POSTAL on Ya!!")

I must say that everytime I step into the Crown Road Post Office, I get all nostalgic...

I think about how life was some 19 years ago when I worked there. I met a lot of interesting people there.

And I did a lot of interesting things...

The year? 1988.

I was 18 years old, and it was the summer before my junior year in college. (I started college when I was 16). During the spring quarter, my chemistry lab partner brought me an application for a temporary position at the post office. She worked there during the summers, and thought I would like it. I usually worked temp jobs during the summers, so I applied for a night time position. I didn't want a daytime position because I wasn't getting along with my mother, and I was gonna do everything to get out of the house so I wouldn't be there with her. My rationale: Work at night and sleep all day. Ma works during the day, so I would have the house to myself.

My sister Kentucky was seven years old. My brother Milk and Cookies was only ten months old. I remember that he hadn't even started walking yet. I drove an old 1978 creme Thunderbird. I loved that car!

I was CONSTANTLY listening to J.J. Fad's new cassette tape (you know the one: SUPERSONIC!!!).

I was with my first real boyfriend, "Eli". Damn, I was in love with that boy. Goodness.

LIFE. WAS. GOOD.

Really good. And a bit scandalous at that!!

Rich, rich, RICH. I was making $5.50/hour as a college casual employee (6 month work detail for college students) at the Post office. My shift was from 7:00 p.m. to 2:30 a.m. I was only supposed to keep this job for the summer (3 months), but I continued it when I started my junior year of college. I would go home after work, and wake up at 6:30 a.m., so that I could make it to my 8:00 a.m. class. (If I tried to do that at my age now, I would be looking crazy). Sometimes I worked overtime. A LOT of overtime: 5-6 days a week, 9 hours a day, upwards to 50 hours . At times, I received a $500.00 check every two weeks. Yes, I was RICH!! LOL!

(I would be living under a bridge if I made that much right now!)

LadyLee gets scandalous. I had a boyfriend that had his own apartment. That meant hours and hours of... never mind. Anyway, I didn't work overtime all the time. And there were even times when my hours were cut.

Now, on the nights that I didn't have to work? Let's just say I walked up out of the house like I had to work, with my badge on, and my lunch.

"You have a safe time at work, Lee," Ma would yell.
"Alright, bye!" I'd yell in return.

I even got bold with it sometimes:

"Ma, I, uh, might be working overtime tonight. So I may not see you, since you leave for work at 6:30."

(Remember... I get off between 2:30 a.m. and 4:30 a.m.) I would go straight to his house if I didn't have my 8 am class, LOL! )

"Well, I will see you tomorrow night."
"BYE!" I'd yell, right before slamming the front door.

*Lee kicking HARD fist pump and jumping in the T-bird and heading to her man's house.*

I was so scandalous. And she never caught on. (At least she never let on that she caught on.)

LadyLee gets REALLY scandalous. Now, like I said, I had a boyfriend at the time. Eli had been my boyfriend for a good year and a half by the time I started working at the post office. But, um, I started liking someone who worked my shift, another college student who attended some HBCU out in Texas. He did the college casual program every summer, and worked out on the post office loading docks. He was tall, Hershey bar dark (I like chocolatety men), and thick (I don't like skinny men). He did bulk mail pickups from my section every hour. He was nice, real polite, etc. I told someone that I thought he was fine. Somehow he got wind of that.

Now, I got in trouble with another chick there because she liked him. She caught wind of me liking him. (I didn't exactly like him. I thought he was cute. You see how stuff gets all changed around?) Well, she stopped speaking to me. Gave me all these dirty looks, and I'd heard that she wanted to fight me. I thought that was crazy. Like I said, I thought the guy was fine.

I had a man already, and was happy with him. What did I care?

Well, you know stuff didn't go down like that, right?

That's right ya'll. The Oldgirl started cheating. Me and this guy started hanging out. After a few dates, I started getting a few ideas.

We spent the night at a hotel somewhere out in Clayton county. I liked that hotel. I snuck off up in there a few times with my boyfriend before he got his own place.

Interesting.

I'm going to say this as nice as possible:

This guy, as wonderful as he was, did not satisfy the Oldgirl. Now take that, and run with it however you please. Whatever you are thinking right about now is probably the truth.

Anyway, I lost complete interest in him. What was worse was that he became more interested in me. I mean, the boy was giddy as hell. He would always want to sneak a kiss when he came to my mail cubicle, and I would appease him. Whatever.

I began dodging him like the plague. He soon caught on that I was not interested. We never talked about it or anything, but I just remember the last day I saw him. He caught me off guard while I was getting in my thunderbird.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye, LadyLee."
"Uh yeah. Hope you do well in school. This is your last year, right?"
He nodded.
"That's good."
We stood there looking at each other. It was 2:30 in the morning, and I wanted to leave because I was trying to get to my man's place.
"Lee, can I at least get a hug?"
Oh brother.

I hugged him, and dipped. I still remember him standing in the parking lot, watching me drive away.

I wonder how he's doing now, all these years later? Like I said, he was really nice. He just wasn't keeping it real in the bedroom. That was a very bad pet peeve of mine. Enough for me to lose your number.

I have a few other funny memories, but I won't detail them. (Ya'll know how long-winded I can be!) Those are the ones I reminisce about the most.

Humph. Thank goodness I bring a book with me when I stand in those long lines.

Don't want to stand there reminiscing too much!! LOL!!!

Gettin' POSTAL on Ya!!!

Last night, I had to go to one of the three 24-hour post offices in the city of Atlanta. There are two on the Northside, and one on the Southside.

Translation: the one on the Southside is in the 'hood.

The post office is located in Hapeville on Crown Road. Anybody from the ATL knows where the place is located. It is near the airport, just off I-75.

Well, I needed to go there to mail a book and some CDs (that I have been holding on to at least a month; sorry LadyBug Mocha!) to one of my bloggin' sistas. Like I said, I've been holding on to the package, only because I HATE going to that Crown Road post office.

The lines are usually long as hell. It's like being in the grocery store or super Wal-Mart in the middle of a Saturday around the first of the month. Everybody and there Mama is up in that place. The parking lot is usually backed up and crowded, like we trying to get up in a damn club or something. So, I procrastinate hard when I need to go. I have patience isshas, and I can't stand standing in line for long periods of time. I usually ebb my annoyance by bringing along a good book to read. This usually works out well... That 20 minutes of standing in line goes by fast enough.

Well last night, the post office was apparently short on staff. There seem to be only 2 employees, and there were about thirty to forty people in line. The line stretched out of the area back past the doors, almost to the post office box area. I've seen it that bad before, but there are usually at least 5 employees manning the counters. I was happy that I brought a book along. I would have immediately turned around and left if I hadn't.

There is a side desk, where a postal employee usually sells stamps and boxes and post office memorabilia, etc... Apparently, this employee, a black woman who looked to be in her early 50's, had gone on break. She came back to the counter and then started going through the line, talking to people and culling out the people that she could service. I had a large package that I needed to mail priority, so she said she could help me. I happen to be standing next to her desk, so I was the first in her line. I was happy about that. It meant that I could mail my package and get the heck on.

Anyway, someone in the long post office line apparently misunderstood something, and went to the front of the long line that contained 30-40 people. She stepped out of line and jumped in front of someone else. I don't know what went down that far up ahead in the line, but apparently she was told that she couldn't jump the line. The lady that was helping me couldn't help this particular chick because she was mailing something express, and that could only be done at the front counter.

(I know it is hard to understand, but stick with me here. I am going somewhere with this.)

So, the chick had to go to the back of the line. And the chick is HIGHLY pissed about it.

And she starts going off. She starts snapping HARD on the post office employee who's helping me.

*LadyLee standing at the counter glancing over shoulder wondering if the chick is gonna pull out a shank. LadyLee wondering silently to herself if she was going to have to elbow the pissed off chick in her grill.*

Now the postal employee who was helping me was very professional about the situation. She apologized to the woman, even though it wasn't her fault that the chick misunderstood something.

Yes, she sounded professional, but her tone... I don't know, sounded more to me like...

"Broad, if you keep talking, I will beat the brakes off of you!!!!"

She was professional but she sounded like gettin' postal was nothin' but a thang. We were in a freakin' post office. And I was hoping that the weapons wouldn't be pulled out.

Let's just say, the chick was getting louder and louder, and the postal employee was sounding to me like she could let her salt-and-pepper hair down, take her earrings off and scrap and scratch if need be.

The postal employee smiled at me and asked if I needed anything else. I needed some stamps. The mad chick is still behind me snapping HARD.

"I need 10 stamps," I said quickly.

"Any particular type?"

"African-American stamps," I mumbled.

"Is Ella Fitzgerald alright?" she asked as she pointed to the stamps.

I am looking at her like she is crazy. I wanted to yell, "Do you realize that this chick is about to tare up this place any second now?"

"Yes ma'am, that's fine."

I paid for my package and my stamps, and I DIPPED. The arguing escalated as I was leaving.

Hope they worked that ish out. I didn't stick around to find out. I jumped in my Zoom-zoom and peeled out of there.

Anyway, the Crown Road post office location always causes me to wax nostalgic.

Why?

Because I worked there back in 1988, when I was 18 years old. (19 years ago! It doesn't feel that long. My, how time flies!) .

I thought I would share with you some of my nostalgic memories... Let's just say the Oldgirl was a bit scandalous and dramatic back in dem days...

OH MY!!

LOL!!


To be continued...