Southern editing and Feet of Clay

I've been in a funk for over a month. There is a date in June that is a very hard day for me. Feet of Clay has been finished for two months now and all I've needed to do is write the blurb. Rather than write it, I've been in a blanket fort with Netflix editing. I thought I was going to be able to come out last month, then that day in June happened and I've hated everything I've written, so I've still been editing.

I've gone through Midnight's Sonata again and I'm giving Feet of Clay one last go through, then I think I may finally write the blurb and send it off.

I live in Louisiana and have my entire life. There are things about me that are very southern and things that are not. Most of the time, when I call people at work, certain parishes with thick southern accents can't understand me and keep asking if I'm from California or New York. I dislike sweet tea and like my tea bitter like my soul. There are people who think I am rude because I go straight for "wow, you're a stupid twunt" instead of "bless your heart". I'm a vegetarian democrat living in the south. But there are also things you can never take away from me that I got from here. I actually prefer the heat and humidity to cold weather. You can pry my Community coffee, grits, and Tony's from my cold dead heads.

How this effects my writing? Only a small portion of my work takes place in Louisiana. Very little actually. One chapter in Midnight's Sonata. Feet of Clay takes place in a fictional small town that could be anywhere. The more I edit, the more I have to check my southern and sit here thinking, fix it, Jesus.

There's several scenes in Feet of Clay where they go grocery shopping. Shopping carts are called buggies here. I had to fix that. I was also sitting here wailing one night around midnight screaming "Whyyyy does every character in my novels live in a house with a porch???" I grew up in a house with a front and back porch, but now I live in a townhouse and all I have is a door step. Every time there is a hurricane here and we lose power for what seems like forever, I bring the contents of my freezer to my parents house and they grill my tofu and the contents of their freezer on a propane grill and we all pig out on the back porch and eat all the food before it goes bad. It's just what you do when there's a hurricane.

The next novel up for me after I've submitted Feet of Clay is going to be a fantasy novel. I have ideas for a horror and a strange sci-fi. Since I've been in a mood for over a month, I haven't been sleeping well and have been lucid dreaming. If I think it will work for a story, I get out of bed when they wake me up, type it into this note pad file, and try to go back to sleep