I don't remember if I've ever mentioned it here before, but I suffer from chronic illness. Well, "suffer" probably isn't the best word - I was diagnosed nearly 20 years ago (eep!), and there's definitely been a ton of ups and downs. Lately I've been in one of those valleys, which resulted in a five-day hospital stay. It had been about six years since that happened last, so I really can't complain too much.
This post isn't meant to be a whiny rant, or a pity party. These things happen, and while the situation may suck right now, it's bound to get better sooner or later. It should go without saying that a lot of things fell by the wayside when I wasn't feeling well, and writing was one of them. At this point, I'm probably not going to meet my self-imposed deadline for this book. Meh.
But. BUT! As anyone who's ever been in one will tell you, hospitals are boring. I wasn't on my deathbed or anything, just in need of some IV drugs (and maybe a little more rest than I get at home with two toddlers running amok). I actually read some books, and then I had the bright idea to tell Mr. Landen to bring me a brand new shiny notebook and some pens. Brilliant, I say.
I managed to successfully extricate myself from marathons of Say Yes to the Dress and Law & Order: SVU and get some writing done. And, of course, I was right at the scene where the romance really kicks off, but awkward or not, I forged ahead. So yeah, there I was, curled up in a hospital bed with an IV in my hand, writing all sorts of dirty words in my notebook.
As I said, these things happen. That's got to earn me some street cred in the smut-writing world, right?