Plot Twists and Laundry: Which Will Claim My Sanity First?

Hey Peps. Bet you were wondering where I have been. Well…. I hit burn out at the speed of light, crashing head first into the brick wall of life at the speed of sound. Factor in the day to day writing, lack of sales and stress… You have a recipe for disaster.  So, the only thing I could do for the last little bit is take two giant ass steps back.

While I was gone though, I did start working on a new book. Well, not new new it was something that I had been dabbling with since the summer but really hunkered down working on. Cuts and Cufflinks, a biker billionaire romance. Here’s the fun part… She’s the biker. With any real luck it will be out in time for Indie in Indy next Aug. 

Now for the burning questions that seem to be raging through my fans minds… When is the next book in the 4 Queens for 4 Kings series going to be coming out… well there is no real answer for that one. I will finish the stories. I have not abandoned the Queens. Its just hard for me to look at them right now. The people that the queens were based off of either have moved on in more ways than one or no longer want to be part of the project. This leaves me with a sinking sorrow. 

See, there’s a special kind of madness that happens when your creative life and your real life collide. One minute, you’re knee-deep in a scene where your characters are arguing over who gets the last word—and the next, you’re elbow-deep in a pile of laundry that smells like someone fought a war in it. Both situations require strategy, emotional stamina, and possibly caffeine in IV form.

I’ve decided that writing and laundry are basically the same battle in different outfits. Both pile up when you’re not looking. Both demand attention right when you’ve found your flow. And both can make you question every life choice that brought you here. The Never-Ending Spin Cycle

Writing is just another spin cycle, isn’t it? You think you’re done with revisions, but then one character whispers, “Actually, I think I’d rather stab someone in this scene.” Suddenly, you’re replotting three chapters and questioning whether you’ve accidentally written a thriller instead of a romance. Meanwhile, your dryer beeps—again—and you realize you’ve washed the same load three times because you keep forgetting to switch it over.

At this point, I’m convinced the dryer and my manuscript are in cahoots. Every time I think I’ve made progress, they both reset themselves out of spite.

The Great Character vs. Sock Conspiracy

I’ve lost track of how many socks have disappeared and how many characters have refused to follow the damn outline. Coincidence? I think not. Somewhere in the universe, there’s a parallel dimension filled with my lost socks, abandoned storylines, and plot bunnies reproducing faster than I can keep up.

The real villain in every story I write might just be the chaos of my own making. And honestly, that feels fair.

The Writer’s Juggle

Between deadlines, day jobs, parenting, and trying to keep the house from looking like a crime scene, it’s easy to feel like I’m barely keeping my head above water. My brain doesn’t know when to shut off, so while I’m folding towels, I’m also mentally rewriting dialogue. By the time I’ve finished the towels, I’ve forgotten the line entirely. Genius ideas apparently have a five-minute expiration date.

But the truth is, that juggling act—the chaos, the mess, the unglamorous day-to-day grind—is what fuels the stories. Every meltdown, every overloaded laundry basket, every sleepless night trying to untangle both real and fictional problems gives the words their weight.

Finding Sanity in the Madness

I used to think that to be productive, everything had to be perfect first. The house. The mood. The energy. The mythical balance that doesn’t actually exist. Now, I know better. The mess is part of it. The chaos is the process.

Some days, the words win. Some days, the laundry does.

And some days, I’m just grateful to survive both without crying into the hamper or keyboard.

So if you’re out there, staring down a blank page or a mountain of laundry—or both—just know this: you’re not alone in the spin cycle. Keep writing. Keep moving. Keep laughing when the dryer eats another sock. Because one day, you’ll look up from the chaos and realize you’ve created something beautiful out of the mess.

Even if it’s just a story and a single matching pair of socks.

Be Brave, Be Bold, But Always Stay Humble