The Solitary Life Of A One-Handed Writer

I am writing this today with one good hand. It’s going to be that way for a while. I’m getting used to the new normal, but it’s slow going. A little over a month ago, my brain suffered an injury that was at the very least a setback and to be perfectly honest more than a little catastrophic.

I have a book due.  I was just in the process of wrapping up my latest revision when all this happened, putting me flat on my back in a hospital bed. Add in the ramp up in press for DREAMER and I’m even further behind. I used to type as fast as I could think and now my productivity has been cut in half. When you add in the level of fatigue level -which is extreme right now – it cuts in half again. It’s maddening and frustrating  and I really don’t have time for it.

What does this mean to you, my readers? Well, it means I most likely will not have a book publishing in 2019. That’s a very hard thing for me to write,  particularly as an author with only two books under her belt.

You know what they say . . . if you don’t have your health you don’t have anything. This cannot be rushed.  I’m going to have to get well first and then write when I feel that I really can. That’s been in bits and pieces here and there, a little more everyday. I am slowly regaining some of the use in my left hand –  three out of five fingers now – but it will be several months before I am typing again and likely a few more before I’m typing 94 words per minute again.

So please, readers, hang in there with me. The next book is coming and I promise you I am taking this time to make absolutely sure it was well worth waiting for.