Some stories write themselves, the words and ideas flowing effortlessly onto the page, and I've been fortunate in that respect. Others attract every form of disaster known to mankind and the current one is a perfect example.
It's troubles began in mid ocean, when it morphed from romance to general fiction and doubled in length. This required going back to the beginning and recasting the introduction of additional characters to provide subplots etc. Then the impending arrival of another grandchild was confirmed and tasks which had been pending became urgent and our babysitting racked up a level, especially when another daughter went back to university. Then personal medical problems for both of us intervened and had to be dealt with and adjusted to in the middle of the temporary insanity that set me seeking an agent.
The latest calamity came when my sister suffered a TIA (mini-stroke) that escalated to the point where her entire personality was wiped. (It was heartbreaking, sitting at her bedside, being recognized time and time again, her knowledge of me never lasting for more than a second) Thankfully, she has taken the first tentative steps on the road to recovery with the partial recovery of her power of speech (single words so far, but every one sounds great!)
It's a great life...sometimes