I almost don't want to write this.
Because I know it will invite the continuation of the jinx.
No, I am not superstitious. I know we create our own luck. But the burnt child fears the fire.
While I was on deadline, the following has happened to me in the last month and a half.
My fridge died.
My gas stove blew up.
My new gas stove did not work.
My fridge died again.
My car needed four new tires.
Our roof needed replacing.
Our back door needed replacing.
Our bathroom sink sprung a spectacular leak and mortally wounded our vanity.
Every time we fixed a leak on the new bathroom sink, three more took its place.
The Kiddo needed medical tests which meant two trips to Atlanta.
Our 14-year-old cat Furball got sick and had to be put down.
And just when I thought I had negotiated all of these crises, my laptop died.
Aaack! That is the worst news for a writer.
Fortunately, right before my laptop died, I had just sent in the full manuscript of my next Heartwarming book I affectionately called THE FIXER UPPER. By incredible coincidence, it's about a woman who lives in a 126-year-old huge monstrosity of a Victorian house that is falling apart around her.
The past month? Well, it felt like method writing to me! I don't know whether this book has invited my current fate, but I am hopeful that things will get better. And I am really glad that full is safely in the hands of my wonderful editor Kathryn Lye.
Just in case Fate is listening, I know. I KNOW. It could have been a WHOLE lot worse.