What’s Been Happening With Me Lately

Greetings everyone,

I apologize, again, for seemingly taking a sebatical after my previous update. However, that is not the case. I had been ill over many months of 2025, and I had colon surgery November 7, 2025. I am feeling better after that, but it was an emotionally harrowing experience.. I have Specific Antibody Deficiency (Low IgG), more than likely caused by sepsis/post-sepsis Syndrome. So when I had a partial colon resection, I nearly lost my good sense because I was afraid infection might set in. I needed to have it done and I went through so many different emotions thinking I might get an infection. Well, it did not happen and I am so relieved and grateful. And now that the bad part of the colon which caused the sepsis is gone, I feel like I can rest a little easier.

As for the surgery itself, it was done laparascopically and easier to deal with. Including the day of surgery, I spent nearly five days in the hospital, and then came home to rest. I panicked the day after I got home, realizing I had this surgery and no medical personnel nearby. I ended up in the emergency room with symptoms of nothing. I also refused IV fluids and got nuts when I thought they would attach me to a bag. I had had all I could take at that point. It was not solely about the surgery and the hospital stay, but all I had been through, especially with IVIG infusions each month that take like 3-1/2 hours each time, plus so many times in the ED and with hospital admission over the previous 10 years, and HR at my employer is ruthless, heartless and cold. I don’t care if they see this either.

Anyway, upon this ED visit, they just added an IV line (I guess it’s called) so they could add a bag of fluids if I was going to be admitted. But they found ntohing wrong with me. I guess it was nerves and uncertainty. By the time I spent many hours in the ED, I decided to not panic again unless absolutely necessary and it’s also the day I realized that I really did not need a lot of pain meds. Afterwards thought, t6he healing process was hit and miss, and a learning experience: what to eat, what not to eat, runny stuff, constipation, very hungry, not hungry at all, pain, no pain, and where are my friends and family in my time of need? If it were not for my 90 year old mother, I would have been left to suffer alone. I don’t know what I would have done without her for at least the first 2-3 weeks of recovery.

So here I am, reaching February 7th, which will mark three months after the surgery and I am doing okay with only minor complaints. Sometimes I bring stuff on myself by doing too much and forgetting I had surgery, despite it being laparoscopic, and might try to lift something too heavy, or just move in the wrong way and cause a pain or bad feeling. I had to recognize when my body is saying its had enough. I have to remember that I do have a small abdominal incision as well. Plus, I suffer from diastatis recti which is probably hereditary and I have a small pre-existing umbilical hernia. So I have to remember to be careful.

I have not been able to get back to the health center for my Zumba class or the track, mostly because I did not feel ready, and with it being cold and flu season, I did not always feel safe due my immune deficiency. And, I should not fail to mention the weather. I am in the Chicagoland area and it has sucked pretty much since around Thanksgiving. Between the cold, snow, Specific Antibody Deficiency and healing from a colon resection, I was edgy, wrestless and bored a lot, but just had to wait it out. I think next week we’ll have better temperatures.

Since August 2025, I’ve been querying literary agents for the completed Storm Dwellers. And, I have completed two more rounds of editing and word elimination for the previously self-published Someday Always Comes. I was going to hire an editor for Someday but then the surgery happened and set me back. I am Working on Chicago Down and I have a deadline for myself to complete the first full draft by June. Can I do it? I don’t know. But one thing I do know is if it is not completed, I will celebrate the try and be happy with what I do complete as long as it is more than I have currently.

Thanks for reading.

Wanda

A Re-Blog

Take a look at this blog Post by Beem Weeks with tidbits for creativity, including some really good writing prompts to oil the wheels.

WHAT’S HAPPENING NOW

Hey all,

It’s been awhile since I’ve posted. I’ve had a lot of personal stuff going on, and it continues to go on, it seems. Acceptance of things we cannot change is crucial for our survival, but that does not mean we have to bow to the mischief. But at least my ducks are in a row, so to speak.

Then there are so many issues happening worldwide, and these seem to keep many of us stirred up in one way or another, or at least on our toes, if not at odds with one another. Or if you are like me, a sensitive, headache medicine and chocolate come in handy. We may feel like we have no voice on many public, or even private, issues but we do the best we can. So let us just plot our movements forward in our own lives and do what makes us happy. Let’s hang out with our pals and family, maybe even celebrate with strangers the things we have in common such as at concerts, sports games, working and sharing with our creative friends, pickle-ball. Or maybe fishing, riding roller coasters or studying squid. Whatever floats your boat. Just do it with gusto and take what’s yours by doing so…just don’t hurt anyone in the process.

As for me, I have made about 20 rounds – I kid not – through Storm Dwellers. Yet, I am still planning on last quick sweep to look for redundancy and longish paragraphs that over explain or just have too many words. I also like to find words that I use too many times on a page. Sometimes that cannot be helped though because you can only say, for instance, that Jethro is operating the barbecue pit today. I mean, if Jethro is at the pit, well, he’s at the pit. Right?

So, Storm Dwellers is finally complete in my eyes. For now anyway. I have to give it a rest.

As for Someday Always Comes, I have made three sweeps through the entire manuscript (after the original 20) and have every intention on hiring a editor for it this time around. I will self-publish the new edition since I did the original. I am not going to seek representation because it was already a self published book. I am also going to try to do some sprucing up on the cover. I did something regarding the cover that I rarely do. I took it to social media about a decade ago and some people had not so nice things to say about the cover regarding the thumbnail for the e-book. I got it back then and still do, but you know even the thumbnail for Kindle has a come a long way. Anyway, I went to social media this time to see what ideas people had to offer. Honestly, this time around, I got great ideas from commenters on both the thumbnail and the paper book cover, and many told me not to change it totally, but to just add more contrast and a couple other minor changes. Hey – if social media and generation gaps are not fickle, I don’t know what is.

I began a sequel to Storm Dwellers which is tentatively titled The Other Side of the Storm. It is meant to tie up loose ends regarding what happened to some of the Storm Dwellers characters when they exited the story to include Benny’s tale. In Storm Dwellers, Benny briefly mentions a girl named Rhonda who was killed. I think we might be introduced to character at some point in The Other Side of the Storm. At least, that’s what a character told me.

Next in line is the third, and probably the final in the Storm Dwellers line, temporarily called Rhonda. With the help of his family and friends, Benny finds out what happened to Rhonda and brings closure to her family and community. I want to write this, but it is not set in stone. Another thing that’s not for certain is how much of Rhonda’s tale we’ll get in The Other Side of the Storm.

And as for that friggin’ hulking undertaking that I could slap my damned self for starting, Chicago Down, these characters are jealous and do not like that I have left them mid-leap while brushing up Storm Dwellers and Someday Always Comes. Salbatora is feisty and Al is unforgiving, and I had better not attempt to double cross either of them. I have reassured them that I have no intention of doing so, even if it kills me. Al, in turn, has assured me that it just might. I don’t get it, do you?

That is my short update. I am working diligently when time permits. I have some upcoming health things to deal with but recovery should be quick. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, and I’ll post about it when I know more.

A friend of mine asked me about The Sheriffs of Robertson County. Well, that sucker is a doozy and the first in the series, Angel Maker, is on hold. The book is a work of fiction, but involves subject matter needing a great deal of research on sensitive subjects, and while it is not exactly a police procedural, it is me struggling to come out of the fantasy genre again and into what could really happen to anyone. Now, Someday Always Comes is not fantasy fiction either, but not in the same way as The Sheriffs of Robertson County will since Dorian Storm and his crew are chasing a serial killer in the opening book. Someday Always Comes, is the Gen X-er in me refusing to relent.

Exciting times! I think. But Al worries me. Really.

Thanks for reading.

Someday Always Comes, chapter 2 – excerpt

Someday Always Comes, chapter 2 – an excerpt

Fernando ran with a small, seemingly fearless posse of bodyguards and anyone who crossed him ended up dead, or worse, and trust me…dead was much better than worse. Dead is just dead. But Fernando’s worst was gruesome. Broken bones, missing teeth, gouged out eye, no tongue, missing foot, missing fingers, and a broken spine. I’m definitely not making that up. The dude lived, but not to talk about it. I’d rather be dead.

I didn’t like to stare at Fernando’s face for too long. His chilling eyes were a strange brown color that I can’t accurately describe. In the dim, florescent lighting of Duk’s, they appeared crimson-brown, like dried blood. When he looked at me, his eyes told the tale that he could brutally murder me and then observe my dead body for hours without remorse, wallowing in the quiet joy that comes after the orgasmic rush that murdering someone causes for the ruthless contact killer.

Copyright 2023 Wanda Paryla

Where Fires Glow (a poem)

WHERE FIRES GLOW

I was swinging to and fro
Hair flying
Laughing out loud
Barbaric is my memory

Devil’s on the playground
Here to erase my afflictions
God turned his back on me a long time ago
Now I live where the fires glow

Back and forth my memory rages
I struggle to keep my eyes shut
I need to stay where the fires glow
Let me rest in peaceful flame

Bottomless and salty
Protection from truths
Is the pit of the damned
Where the fires glow

Some voices, they urge me
Face your slave masters
But the fires beg me
Cover your eyes for sanity

Devil holds me
Gently in his arms
God’s gone, sweet child
So stay here where the fires glow

The fires
Avengers of my ravaged goodness
I know that I’m safe nowhere
But where the fires glow

Copyright 2018 Wanda S. Paryla

A New Look

Good day to you all.

I’m all too happy to admit how much my author/writer friends have, unknowingly, inspired me to not give up my craft.

Several times over the past couple of years, I’ve mentioned on Facebook how hard it’s become for me to write. Once upon a time, the words flowed like water to wine. Like rapids even. Then one day, they were seemingly gone. Dried up. It went beyond writer’s block. The words were just gone. It was so bad that I asked the doctor if I could be getting Alzheimer’s. I was lost.

But my hopes that the words would return to me were kept alive vicariously through others. I’d watch their progress, secretly cheering them on. Their words and the thrill of performing their craft were not lost. Quite the contrary.

Recently, I got very ill. And as I lay in my hospital bed the first week in January waiting for the cardiologist to tell me I had some terrible heart ailment (luckily and thankfully, my heart & arteries are as exquisite and tough as Ethan Hunt), I was also very lucky. Due to these terrifying circumstances, I had some time to go over the good old mistakes-made list. I got a chance to see what many others never get to. My heart appears healthy.  But no one knew that for sure at the time.

Alone in the middle of the night – hooked up to all sorts of scary, beeping shit – in an all too quiet room in the cardiac unit, perhaps dying at 46, I was scared shitless as this Scorpio held back her emotions.

Hell, if I died, I was not going out all dramatic like a pussy. Heck, no. I’m Scorpio. I rule death. And if She’s coming for me, she better have 40 silver fucking pitchforks.

Regardless of how worried this warrior pretended not to be, death nor sleep ever came.

At the top of my mistakes-made list was not the things that I thought would be there such as vacations I didn’t take, the kids I didn’t birth, or sorrow at fights with family members. Nothing about a Master’s degree, or the lottery, or all the sugar I’ve consumed in my lifetime. Not even apologies never spoken.

There were two things there. Two sorrows. They are: never loving in return the men that loved me; never giving them a chance. They DID love me. I know that now.

The next is: giving up on my writing for reasons truly unknown to me at the time. I was beaten into submission by me, but had no clue.

Some who know me chalked up the lost interest in writing to depression, sadness, anger, etc. All sorts of barriers. A couple of thrifty pals delegated it to my recent obsession with fixing my past. Or my desire to live there, which actually may have caused my sadness. Maybe they are correct. It was destroying me on many levels. Keeping me blind to all the good; allowing me to only see the bad. I was drowning.

I had no idea what was going on. Maybe I was blind on purpose. That happens, you know? I think I’ve been fighting my age. Maybe those who are older than I know what I mean.

So I enjoyed watching my writer friends. I think if there was no Internet,  I might not have had access to them and who knows where I’d be now. In what state of mind.

They are all winners. And despite that I wasn’t writing, they didn’t treat me any differently than they had years ago. They let me stay in the winner’s circle while, unknowingly, hanging on to me by threads.

I’ve been ill before and hospitalized. But never with something potentially life-threatening.  Life ending. For awhile I was like, “FTW? Figures.” But, while we’re still searching for answers, I’m very much alive. My mistakes-made list is changeable because I’m not dead yet. It’s changeable because I’ve seen others change directions many times.

Scorpio may rule death, but also rebirth. I’m reborn. It’s not time to return to the Underworld just yet. The gods have forced my eyes toward what I should see: the good. This goes beyond writing. It encompasses my spirituality and beliefs. It extends to who I know, where I live, as well as to my abilities of storytelling. My ancestors have given me a gift, and I’m still alive to use it. I should not abuse that.

My advice: do not fight the inevitable.  Change only what can certainly be moved. Let the rest go.

Thank you for reading.

-Wanda

Conspiracy – What’s It Mean?

Greetings!

I posed this on my private Facebook page and I thought I’d present this question on my blog here as well. This will also feed to Twitter, my Facebook author page and other sites. I hope you will lend me some feedback if the subject strikes you as interesting at all. Thank you in advance for your thoughts.  🙂

From Facebook:

HELP! What do you think of when you see or hear the word, CONSPIRACY?

Is a conspiracy only a plan for the future, or something that has occurred in the past? Or can a conspiracy remain so even as it’s being played out? Does that make sense?

I’m asking because I am struggling with using it in a book title. Some of you may recall my “The Adam Conspiracy” which is the working title of one of my babies that’s been on the shelf, then off again, for years. I pull it out for inspiration usually. But I believe the time is coming for it to not go back upon the shelf. Now I am struggling with the title. It’s always kept me focused, but I am not sure what “The Adam Conspiracy” will mean to a person before they read the back cover or skim a page.

Support Your Authors…

image

This is too good not to share. For all of us Supernatural fans. LOL

A Future Haiku

Shining Star

A FUTURE HAIKU

Looking back no more
Up ahead there is a star
Leading me afar

 

Copyright 2015 Wanda S. Paryla

Drafts

I enjoy learning about how other writers create. What their writing steps and techniques are.

When I am first working on a story…a book…I usually write it, well, un-colorfully….if I can use a crazy word. Let me explain. I use plain, bland words. I might write a line like, “The boat rocked back and forth on the fierce ocean.” Eh…eh…. Later, I’ll add the words that matter and recreate the sentence. “The millionaire’s yacht creaked and rocked under the weight of the menacing waves. The novice millionaire captain was petrified. His friends and family fought to hold on for dear life against the storm that mysteriously appeared.” Then, later down the road it will change yet again and add points of view, character emotions, etc.

I met one writer who does things differently than I do.  She over describes things, then cuts out instead of building up.

What is your preference?  Your first-draft technique?

Thanks for reading.