The Story Cure, by Dinty W. Moore, is a well written guide for the novel writer.
It will take you through each section of your book with tips and ideas that should help keep you writing fluidly.
It
will guide you through plot and character problems, as well as a host
of other concerns, giving you easy to understand solutions.
Once you have written down the bones of your novel, you can move ahead to the more diligent aspect of revision.
Take your time with this, and just follow along,
Before long your novel will begin the unfold before you. What could be better than that?!
I received this book from Blogging for Books in exchange for an honest review.
As you can see, its been quite some time since coming here with any kind of an update on my life.
I hardly know where to begin, as some things that I've experienced are quite hazy to me.
Back in early August, I believe I was at Maimonides hospital, and for all intents and purposes they transferred me to Cobblehill nursing facility, because, it seemed, that I was on the verge of death.
My oncologist, Dr. Burdette, meanwhile, did not intervene in any way, and completely dropped the ball in terms of my healthcare.
At Cobblehill things got even worse. If I was on the verge of death, they were certain to be the last nail in the coffin.
Overloaded with pain medication and tranquilizers (oxycodone, morphine, zanax) I became a virtual zombie. I was unable to move or speak, or even think for that matter. I could see the fear and sorrow on my sister and niece's faces as they sat at my bedside thinking I wasn't long for this world. They were going to send me to hospice before long. My closest friends were notified of my impending death. I remember Amelia and Jeff coming and holding me close. At one point I was alone with Jeff and he told me he loved me, and I said back to him, "I love you, too, Jeff." which were the first and only words I said or would say for a long time.
Ultimately, my niece, Melissa, couldn't take it anymore, and she wanted me out of Cobblehill. She had me sent by ambulance to Methodist hospital. She actually works for Methodist, across the street from the hospital in the administrative offices. She works with care management nurses. Her boss and co-workers were very helpful to her (and in turn, me) in getting things set up for me.
At Methodist I was able to get clean from all those narcotics, keeping only the bare minimum.
Slowly....so slowly, I started to come around. Forming a clear thought and speaking a few words was difficult. It literally took me hours to tell Melissa the words "apple sauce". I knew I wanted it, but could not think of the words. Once I got past that, other thoughts and sentences started to emerge; quite often it was about food and drink. Applesauce, pudding and juice with ice were high on my list.
At Cobblehill I had not eaten for eleven days! So this was a start. Then finally I was able to eat a full meal.
I went to Menorah rehab facility for quite some time, learning how to walk again, basically. I participated in physical and occupational therapies.
I was then transferred to Methodist , fighting severe COPD exacerbation, bouts of pneumonia, and of course the metastatic breast cancer badly affecting my bones and lungs.
Every afternoon Melissa would come and spend her lunch hour with me, bringing coffee and donuts from Dunkin' Donuts.
I dropped all of my old doctors who were associated with Maimonides, and hooked up with new ones affiliated with Methodist... this included a new PCP, oncologist, pain control md, and a pulmonologist... all of which I will follow up with in the near future.
I was discharged from the hospital just a few days ago.
It is slow going right now. I have severe neuropathy in my feet, making it very difficult to walk, plus bad shortness of breath on even the slightest exertion. So, getting around is not at all easy.
Adult Protective Services came in and cleaned out my apartment, which was in bad shape. I've been staying with Evie since being discharged, but hope to be back in my own place before long.
