Showing posts from February, 2014


The problem with writing the first book in a series is that eventually, you have to write the second book. Especially as the best way to sell books is to write more books. When you would like your books to someday be your primary source of income so you don’t have to have quite so much of a day job (and therefore more time to write books), getting going is a good idea. But I’ve had the hardest time doing that. And not just because it's hard to write when Lucy insists on "helping."   Initially, there was the quite understandable reveling in Having A Book Out and I spent a lot of time promoting the book on blog tours and the like. Whenever I talked about starting the next book, people who love me would do an intervention and tell me to enjoy Having a Book out. So I did. Then I picked up another freelance gig at the start of last summer, fully knowing that this would take away any time I’d otherwise have to write the book. I was okay with that — by that

No, Really. Stay Home.

A few weeks ago, I wrote a post about the theory about why it’s important to stay home when you’resick . Today, I’ll be sharing the real life story of what happens when someone who has RA and is on an immunosuppressant gets “just a cold.”  Two weeks ago, I picked up a cold. It’s been going around in the agency that provides my attendant care and the staff had not been wearing masks. It was an annoying cold to them, but not something that flattened them sufficiently to stay away from work. My experience was very different. It started slow for a few days, then arrived in full force, settling into both head and chest. I got a cough suppressant, but didn’t want to use it – I was coughing up gunk and knew it wouldn’t be a good idea to suppress that. During the day, the incessant cough prevented me from doing much of anything. And it wasn’t just a regular cough. It was coughing fits, paroxysms of coughing that several times a day slammed my throat shut, making attempts at

Your Life with RA is One Year Old!

Today is the first anniversary of The Book being published ! (Well, actually yesterday was, but I’ve been sick so that’s a bit of a delay). Most of my life, I’ve dreamed of having a book with my name on it. Not inside the cover, as a mark of ownership. No, the dream was the kind of book that has the name on the cover proclaiming “I wrote this!” When I decided to create a five-year plan that would make the dream a reality, I didn’t expect to get there ahead of time. Being able to publish a book I was proud of was one of the most important moments in my life and the thrill still hasn’t worn off. Every now and again, I get out a copy of the paperback and pet it a for a bit while smiling like an idiot. I bet everyone who has written a book does that. (crickets…) No? Maybe it’s just me. Usually, though, having a book with your name on it is not the whole story. Once you send your baby out into the world, you hope that it will find a home among people who will like