#writter's block

So, of course it’s today that I suddenly run out of ideas for Legend week. But Imma pull through cause well. Legend. So I’m just sitting on my bed thinking. Hmmmmmm. hmmm. What could be a good Legend AU. There’s already the coffee shop au. Someone probably already highschool AU. Reverse AU. Now crossovers are more fun. Never hear much bout them. But then again, im sitting here, punching my brain and laying upside down to think of something good. AND BAM! there it is! the idea of a life time! By now you’re probably like “Rose, where are ya going with this?” just. shh. hear me out. just give this a chance. An AU where Instead it’s Day and June, It’s Metias and John. And everything else is the same. June dies in the first few chapters, and Day lives every day of his life helping his mother and tending to Eden. Metias is still at his rank, and one day, he gets a call from good ole lady Jameson saying “Metias, your sister, June, She’s been killed, and we think you may know who did it.” So Metias, waltzes to the station, and immedietly knows it was John. (He’d probably have some cool name like what Day had, but idk.) So, Metias runs off, putting his own life on the line to track down John. They find each other, John’s traveling with good little Tess, like a giant brother to her. John helps Metias after his skitz fight with Kaede, and take him to their little hideout, where Metias gets to tag along with John. BUT WAIT! Like on that one small night in the alley way with Day and June, John and Metias share a bottle of beer, john taking his long head tilted back swigs, while Metias takes small baby sips. The two fall in love. (and happily ever after. haha no.) 

of course, like in Legend. Everything just goes down even further from there. Metias gets John arrested. they kill their mom, as usual. And john is hauled off to prison where he will be facing the fireing squad. Metias finds out the truth, and frees John, but one thing, just one thing, holds them back. They don’t have enough time. they need a distraction. Day is there. He goes back, and stands in front of the fireing squad, this time, in place for John, and he gets filled with bullets. And now the two, Metias and John, ride off on the train, wind in their hair, and hands locked within each others.

As I mentioned earlier, before I could have any hope of resuming the productive routine I’d gotten myself, I had to weather a veritable storm of life changes.

To kick the whole thing off, I had to sell the house I’d lived in for 14 years, which was at least 4x longer than I'd ever lived in one place before. When it sold more quickly than I expected, I had to move out abruptly, cramming an unbelievable collection of stuff (and collectibles) into storage. Then, not knowing where to move to, I bailed to Europe for six weeks, leaving the famed Bernadette in the care of friends. I spent that time walking miles a day, trading fat for muscle with the help of some push-ups and sit-ups, and curing my back pain almost totally. In the process I lost about 12 more lbs., putting me a good 30+ under my peak of grotesquery a couple of years ago.

After various wacky adventures, meeting new and old friends and burning a couple of bridges along the way, I returned to find that the problem of where to move to had not gone away. (For the record, America’s Nuclear Landfill—Nevada—is still home, but I needed another place to spend some time.) Stabbing in the dark, I found Portland to be a suitable venue in which to finish my book. Then the real moving hassle began. Three different accommodations in quick succession, endless furniture and housewares shopping, and multiple trips back and forth culminating in an interminable drive involving an RV and a frightened, morose runt of a Burmese cat.

And then there were the dental problems: two root canals, several crown replacements. Joy by the boatload. And my old career is refusing to leave me alone as completely as I’d envisioned.

Most of that is settled now, except for the parts that aren’t, and I’m writing this from a Starbucks across from Powell’s famed bookstore (which I haven’t been in because I only read on a Kindle now). This is one of a handful of suitable coffee shops I’ve located in the area, and the only one thus far that’s in walking distance.

Unfortunately, the deliberate breaking of my writing habit went a little too far, and I’m finding it quite hard to get things started again.