I warned everyone. I’m a mere shadow of a blogger. A blurred outline of a writer. A hideous creature watching football instead of entertaining my invisible audience. But hey, the new year is upon us, and I can make a new year’s resolution, (which I most likely will ignore, forget, or discard), to really hunker down and create a post once a week. So, let’s see how that goes.
Did I mention that my book, Three Quarters Dead, has been sitting at the publisher, polished and shiny and ready to release, for a year now? The edited, print-ready, actual book has been ready for publication for one freakin’ year. What the hell are you waiting for, Lisa, you may ask. What’s the hold up? Are you daft, dense, debilitated, delirious? Perhaps…but before we decide what my mental state is, picture this: you’re a kid who adores ice skating. You can’t wait for the mild fall weather to be replaced by the bone chilling temperatures of winter, sufficient to freeze the waters of your favorite skating pond. Your skates are ready—the leather dusted off, blades sharpened, laces new. Your time is approaching!
Soon the day arrives when you’re sure the conditions are right. Grabbing your gear, you trudge off to the pond, the frosty air freezing your eyeballs and instantly chapping your lips. You reach your destination, so excited you almost pee yourself, only to discover the water has a mere skin of ice floating above it, certainly too thin to hold your weight. Deeply disappointed, you turn around and drag yourself home.
A week later you’re ready to try again. You pack your stuff up and scurry to the pond, so excited you almost puke. You are ecstatic when you see that the ice covering the pond is like a thick and sturdy slab of concrete! But to your dismay a six-inch layer of snow glistens atop it, making skating impossible. You shuffle home awaiting the ice to be cleared.
Your next foray to the pond reveals a mob of skaters, mostly shitty ones, tripping over one another, bashing and slashing their way around the pond. Too crowded, you moan, and back home you go.
The next day you arise early, before the crowds amass, grab your stuff and scurry through the frigid air to the pond. A powerful north wind ushers in a cold front and the temperatures are single digit. Standing at the edge of a vast and empty slab of ice, you shiver and shake. Too cold, you decide, and walk away.
The point I’m trying to make is that the kid is waiting for the perfect conditions to be in place before he skates. If he waits long enough it’ll be spring, and his opportunity lost.
For me, 2024 has been riddled with problems and events and unexpected occurrences that have consistently pulled me away from my book. I have six children for crap’s sake. The odds of one of them needing my attention at any given time are pretty high. But that’s not all. Friends have died. Relatives have become ill and needed my assistance. I’ve helped a non-ambulatory college-mate pack an entire house of belongings into a moving van. I’ve shuttled others to the store or to medical appointments. My dog grew a 7-pound tumor in his leg. My daughter was in a near fatal car wreck. Another needed a hysterectomy. Another is experiencing a high-risk pregnancy. I’ve undergone two hurricanes this past summer, two surgeries, and a partridge in a pear tree….
Will the “conditions” ever be right for the release of Three Quarters Dead? I think not. If I keep waiting, I’ll have to change the title to Four Quarters Dead. And nobody wants that. So, my plan is to publish my very patient and sympathetic book in January 2025. No person, or ailment, or calamity, or tsunami, volcano or act of God can dissuade me. It’s game on, people. Get your skates ready! The pond is freezing over.