Vampire Diaries last week, Damon (Ian Somderhalder) almost died, which, for a vampire is rather "final."
I almost died this weekend, too.
Physically, I'm doing much better than Damon, who barely escaped a fire that would have turned his (awesome) undead body to ash. But mentally? I admit it was a rough couple of days.
Let me explain.
I'm a deadline girl. Always have been. And so it should surprise no one who understands me that I'm *on* deadline for a couple of projects. Like my book. I'd been working diligently on final edits, tweaking every sentence, flushing out the text (indeed, adding an extra 15,000 words). I had planned to complete the document this past weekend and celebrate by attending the carnival with my family.
I'm also on deadline at work. Our year is up, and the audit was to take place this past weekend as well. Since I often work on my book during my lunch hour, I thought it best to erase all personal files from the work computer. I used the *find* function, surprised to see so many word docs with my writing on them. And so, I deleted them. Then deleted them again. And for added measure, I called our work tech guys and REALLY deleted them.
Which would have been responsible had the *find* function not also been scanning documents saved on my USB.
And had my USB not been the only place I'd saved the revised copy of my book - and pretty much everything I've ever written. (Including Jack of Hearts, the first book I wrote - I was 16.)
I'm not going to lie. I broke down and cried. Then beat myself up for a few hours. And then called my friend Ashley, who is a tech God. Rather than shame me (as others had been), he immediately drove to my house and retrieved the now-empty USB, offering some hope that the files contained on it could be recovered.
Sadly, some were. But not all, and certainly not the two of most import.
Kill me now.
But like Damon, I did not die. After his near-death experience, my hunky muse (in the past and most definitely this week) rose from the fire with a new perspective on life. Lessons learned and all that jazz. I'll have to wait until next season to see how long he lasts in this new role as "good guy" (and given my pension for bad boys whether I'll still swoon when I see him...), but until September, I figure he has some time to devote as my muse.
And let's be honest. I really need him. More than Elena does, that's for sure.
He began his new job on Saturday. In addition to letting me cry on his shoulder (wait, no, that was handsome husband...), he's helped me assess what needs to be done. I'm recreating a new version of the book (after much groveling and sniveling) based on the last version I saved somewhere other than on my USB. So far, it's going well-ish.
Perhaps more important than the craft and technical help, though, is that my muse whispers a lot in my ear. Not the kind of sweet nothings I'd love to hear from him, but something equally as spine-tingling: Back up your files. Every day.
Yeah, he's helpful like that.
P.S. Have you entered my first contest yet? Deadline is Friday.
The Book In My Bag Today: The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, Stieg Larrson