In the Zone with Shot At Love

Finally after months, I'm back in the writing zone!
Only another writer can understand that statement. But know that it's AWESOME!

I haven't felt this excited about writing since I was writing BLINDSIDED. Shot At Love had become a "job", it wasn't fun anymore. That's how I like my writing, fun.
And the fun is back.

I don't know why and I don't know how, but I'm not questioning it.
The last few months I've felt BLAH. Maybe it was a hangover from writing BLINDSIDED? I really did love Sam and Trina and still want to write more of them. But it's been rough...
I don't want to stop writing for anything these past few days. Too bad I do have other responsibilities, like I'm a wife, a mom, I have a dog and cat, I help with my grandmother and I have a small side job. So there are times that I HAVE to pause my writing. Too bad my brain doesn't stop creating! Just tonight I was running in from the kitchen in between stirring the ground meat to add sections that I just worked out in my head to the WIP!

This will be short and sweet, but I had to express my excitement somewhere. Maybe an author will read this and what I'm saying will make perfect sense, lol.
A normal day these last few months have been 0-100 words. The last few days I'm averaging 4K!
That calls for a Starbucks! Well, it will once I finally get to one. lol...
Yay Me!!!

Funeral Homes Suck

Funeral homes suck.
Well they do.
Just being honest.
I know it's someone's job, and ironically I graduated with a kid (he's not a kid anymore, lol, but when I knew him he was!) who runs a funeral home. That's cool if it's your thing, or your family business, but to me, it's creepy.
But what I'm really talking about is funeral home viewings. They suck.
This one was no exception.
I'm an ugly cryer. And I can't talk. I get that typical lump in my throat and I just shake my head when folks talk to me. lol...yep, it's a real laugh! I know it's going to happen, and it does. EVERY time. What can I say, I'm an emotional person.


Let me just say with all the stress of this week, that the fudge I bought at the Candy Kitchen at the ocean is coming in quite handy right now! The chocolate one in particular. YUMMMM

Having to say goodbye to such a dear friend has been rough. The way it happened making it even tougher. It's painful to think of him being gone. Ricky had always been a really great guy. Happy, funny, cracking jokes, and sometimes wildly inappropriate (as a mutual friend said). He loved calling people "Effers" that was just his humor. I already mentioned that I knew him practically my whole life. I never would've guessed he was in the pain that he was.

The worst part is that he deleted his Facebook. It's gone. There's no way to go one and look at old photos he posted, or old things he wrote... Birthday wishes, or goofy comments... it's all gone. I would be taking screen shots or saving all of that stuff if I had the chance.

But this isn't about me. It's about preserving his memory, and making sure he lives on in all of us. I appreciate all the love I've received. You are all truly the best. Obviously I'm still hurting, and will be for a long time. But I'm going to make something positive out of this. I've thrown myself into things like breast cancer research and concussion research, I can see me focusing on suicide awareness or mental health soon.

But at the moment, my creative outlet is blocked from all my own sadness and mourning. Not to mention PMS. Because why wouldn't it be PMS time too? Right? (Keep layering it on...someone really wants to see how much I can take apparently)

A very good author friend said maybe someday I'll be able to put this into my writing, and it will be therapeutic. I'm sure she's right. I can already see me starting research and using this terrible experience in some beneficial way. Maybe even a charity book for mental health. I can imagine him giving me a "that's awesome!" if I can manage to pull that off.

He used to drive a boat of a car and it was banana yellow. Ironically, the Renegades colors are yellow and gray, so perhaps someday we'll see some Renegades player buy some awful banana yellow sports car? If you ever read that, you'll know - Easter Egg!

He loved Halloween, Godzilla, and Shark Week. Comi-cons and zombies. Him and my hubby bonded over The Simpsons. So many tributes to choose from. I'll have to think about this a bit. That's the great thing about doing what I do. I put words to paper, and they are there forever.

I'm so very lucky that he was a big part of my life, as well as my husband and son's too. But that does make the loss deeper and rougher. It's not a pain that a band-aid can fix, or even a can (or more) of beer. It's going to have to run its course and as agonizing as it is, a life without him will slowly become the new normal. To me, it's like losing a cousin. And it does suck.

Our families are intertwined. They will always be. I grew up across the street from his family. I was close to his parents my whole life, and was devastated when we lost them. His mom used to call me (affectionately, of course) "brat". I loved the nickname so much, I went out and bought a license plate cover that said BRAT. I'm friends with Ricky's cousin and my son is friends with her son. The boys play hockey together and went to CCD together. I know her mom from being around this family all these years. It's awesome how neighbors across the street grew into family. And with the help of social media, staying in touch is easier than ever.

Funny story. His mom HATED cats. She was attacked as a child. And we had the cat from hell. Our cat hated everyone but my mom and dad. Anyway... (I'm getting off topic) My sister and I were home alone, and our Carbon Monoxide Detector went off in the house. We threw the mean cat in her cat carrier and went across the street. She didn't want to let us in with the cat but she did. She was nervous even with the cat behind "bars" in her carrier. But she wouldn't turn us away. (turns out the battery was going bad in the detector, there was no threat. But what did we know?)

I'm trying to think of some other fond memories of Ricky, but they just aren't coming at the moment. I still feel like I'm trying to keep my head above water, and at the same time feel like I'm in a fog.

And I want ice cream (thanks to the pms). Guess that Candy Kitchen fudge will have to do.

I'm hoping to get back to my Luc tomorrow and find some direction in the next Renegades book, Shot at Love. I pushed the deadline back due to all the unfortunate and confusing events as of late. But I'm feeling the writing vibe, and hoping I get a good bit done soon. I still plan to get Shot at Love out in the Fall.

Tomorrow is my lazy day, and I'm looking forward to it. Drinking coffee well into the afternoon, maybe a nap, and NO runs to the grocery store! I end up there way more than I like - LOL. What that means for dinner though, I'm not so sure.

For now, I'm taking it day by day. That's the best any of us can hope for, right? With the help of the remaining fudge and some Lucky Charms cereal, it'll be okay.

See Godzilla in the Pens jersey? This was a photo he posted every once in a while in support of our beloved Pens. Cracked me up every time!
This was "Classic Ricky".

You'll see me posting this logo from time to time.
It's just something I need to do. Spreading the word, or maybe helping someone else is the only thing I can do now.








Rest in Peace, Ricky....

If you need to talk, there's always someone listening.

I had a very busy week. But if you know me, you know that life has been busy these last few months. I run the house, have a husband and son, and pets. I'm trying to write book 8 in The Renegades Series. I work very part-part-time and I now help with my Grandmother more than I used to, and with that, my stress level has increased. It's hard to not get snippy in that position, and even harder to accomplish any writing. I wouldn't NOT spend the time with her, because she IS my Grandmother, I just need to learn to manage my stress better. Somehow. (Maybe I need more beach in my life?)

Last weekend was a book signing in Baltimore, and we had a great time. Got to see some friends and make new ones. (And I totally fan-girled over Helena Hunting)
We also visited with family in Baltimore, then with family in Delaware. I caught some sun at the beach (my happy place) and got my fix of the salty ocean air.
It was a very nice week. First morning back home, I woke up feeling energized and with a very low, possibly non-existent stress level. I even cleaned the kitchen and the dining room for the first time in months. Yes, you heard that right. Months. My son even commented on how nice it looked. It did. I'm annoyed at myself for putting it off for so long. But when I am home, I'm either writing, or so exhausted that I don't move from the couch. That's a far cry from me being home almost 24/7.

But that day I felt great. I wanted more days like that.

I was going to pull out the computer and get some work done later that day while still on my stress-free high. Then it all came crashing down around me.

We got a message that a dear family friend had taken his own life.
Just like that.
He was just gone.

You know that older cousin you have that is super-cool? They do say your cousins are your first best-friends. Well, to us, that's who he was. He was like that cousin that was like your best friend, yet he was no blood relation.

So there went my happy and energetic mood, and now I was just numb. Probably in shock, but numb.
I went through the motions for the rest of the day in a fog. Needless to say, not doing any writing.
Ironically, I was watching a Supernatural episode yesterday morning. Dean had to be "Death" for 24hours. He had to take people when their number was up, whether he liked it or not. I believe the little girl said to Dean, "Natural Order sucks" and he responded "Honestly, I agree". Maybe I'm paraphrasing, but you get the just.
Yes, I agree with you too fictional television characters. It sucks.

I had known this particular family friend all of my life, literally. If I had to guess, I met him and his family when I was maybe 5 or 6?? They were my neighbors growing up. They were more like family to us then just friends or neighbors. His mother was who introduced me to hockey. She'd have us neighborhood kids over to watch the games sometimes. Or we'd sit on her porch with her, sit on the porch swing and talk hockey. She was pretty awesome. Her favorite Penguin was Darius Kasparaitis.

I remember having a kool-aid stand in our front yard, now mind you, we lived on the end of a dead-end street. So the foot traffic to our little kool-aid stand was non-existant. But he'd come home from school, or work, whatever he was doing at the time, and stop over at our stand and buy some kool-aid.

He was ten years older than me, and I was the oldest child in our little group. But we all got along so well. He'd play street hockey with us, or swim, or just generally be goofy.
He was the "cool" older kid, and he picked us to hang out with.

To this day, he referred to me as the nickname I was given about 23yrs ago by a girl at my first job.
He even went with me to a work Christmas party as my date, after the boy I asked backed out. I remember him dancing like a wild man, and really having a great time. Even though he lived right across the street, he dropped me off in my driveway.

He was the kind of guy you could talk hockey with, football, baseball, and The Simpsons. His Homer Simpson impression was the best!

He was going to teach my son to ice skate. 
He was going to take my son fishing.
We were going to get together soon.

I still can't wrap my head around this news. 
I'm sick. 
I'm sad. 
I'm still hoping it's all a bad dream. 
Most of all I just don't understand. And I don't think I ever will.

Depression sucks.

I will not ever pretend to understand what the folks who suffer from it think or feel. I will never understand what my friend was dealing with. He was the kindest, funniest, friendliest, sweetest, most easy going guy I ever met. I still am struggling with this news, and my brain (or maybe my heart) refuse to comprehend it. Yet the tears are still flowing every time he comes to mind. And I know me lending an ear, or offering to listen won't "solve" the problem. But it's a start. It's something that I can offer.

I'm no therapist, but I can be a friend. If anyone reading this thinks no one is listening, try me. 
I'm on Facebook at www.facebook.com/AuthorMelodyHeckGatto 
I'm on Twitter at My Personal Twitter. 
Tweet me and we can chat by private message, or PM me on Facebook and we can chat. If you have my email, email me.

We lost a wonderful friend. 

He will be forever missed but never forgotten.  

So, my stress-free days are gone again. My heart hurts and my head is spinning.
When does it go back to normal? Is there really even a normal?

If anyone read this whole blog, thank you for listening to my run down memory lane.

Time to go finish dinner for the family and try to get some work done. I think some chocolate might also be in order. Maybe lots of chocolate. Or a donut. Pink frosting with rainbow sprinkles like Homer Simpson would eat.

In Loving Memory...

Making someone's day sometimes makes yours too.

Making someone's day sometimes makes yours too.

The other day I was at my little part-time job (does once every two-weeks make it part-time? Or part-part-time maybe?), I put out greeting cards. Anyways, I ran into a lady shopping for cards. We started to talk, and we talked for probably 20 minutes to a half-hour. I had never met this woman before, and she didn't know me, but we talked about her life and a little about mine. She was very friendly and seemed like she just wanted to talk, so I listened.

She had been through a lot in her life, and things hadn't been perfect for her, but she kept on. The point of everything she said was just that. You have to keep going. Keep moving and doing what you love, no matter what. She wasn't wrong about that. My grandfather and a few of his siblings lived well into their ninety's, and they were doing things they loved (playing ping-pong, doing yard work, driving, even working on the roof!).

My grandmother is also in her ninety's. Apparently I come from good genes! The secret is to keep moving. Don't let anyone put you in the corner and don't curl up in the corner yourself and give up. Find what makes you happy, and do it, and keep doing it.

I don't know if I'll ever run into her again, but I'm sure not to forget our little talk anytime soon.

Sometimes it pays to just listen. 😃