There is something standing in the way of me truly being happy and that is my fear, or phobia, of happiness.

A few weeks ago I posted a blog about my pussycat Madeline. I was almost doing it daily and didn't have the heart to keep on disappointing people day after day. For a month it looked like there was nothing left to do but to put her down. The medicine I was given didn't work and all she did was stay on the bed, immobile for hours on end unless I brought her to her food, which she barely touched.

Once again I finished a short series and I've fallen off the edge of the earth, or so it would seem. But I am still around, reading blogs, sending random comments, writing the occasional tidbit to make sure people don't forget about me.

I figured now is as good a time as any to update people on my life and current work.

And so I do what I've been doing for quite some time. I am undergoing another project, another novel. I haven't posted anything since the last chapter of Just Friends, but I was busy editing and publishing a few stories on Amazon while I gathered my wits about me.

I try to produce good works. I really in truly think I tell a very good story. But something must be lacking and I am wondering what it is. As long as it isn't an attack, I am wondering where people think I come up short in my writing so that I can improve. I have vision of finding an agent and a publisher or at least being mildly successful on my own. My goal is to make $2000 a month so I can live off of (right now I make 400 and I wonder if that would last). I sell about 200 books a month (so by math i would need to sell 1000 a month) on amazon.

I am learning more and more about who I really am. It used to be that I used my writing to explore aspects of myself, but that is becoming less of the norm. I am no longer living as Katie vicariously through characters and words on a page and am living real life as the real me.

I'm trying to get the hang of bitly links and I figure I might as well promote something in the process. This will be my last one, I promise. But, people probably don't know the dress punishment is up for sale anyway and it has absolutely 0 reviews.

Anyway here is my recent facebook post:

I created a separate facebook account for "Katie Leone". This one is where I post all my updates solely about my books. I did this for several reasons. One is to keep my fans and friends separate (a lot of people here are both, but I've gotten some people out of the blue find me and it's been interesting. Evidently the APA has me on their listserv). The other, I'm sure some friends get tired of posts about my books left and right.

Very little change. Had a slight moment of hope this morning when cat tried to lift it's back leg to scratch ears but hasn't done it since. Still fights getting the medicine (liquid in a syringe so if anyone has any idea how to do this better PLEASE HELP). She did go to the bathroom... she pooped in my bed (I'm not mad) and she's peed on herself a few times. I am going to get baby wipes because I can't keep on giving her a bath. I don't think she has any feeling in her hind quarters, didn't even protest to getting wet.

I took my cat Madeline to the vet today. She was such a good cat. I had her in a little pink basket that I put a pillow down in and she just laid there, occasionally rubbing her cheek against me. At first you could tell she was very scared, but she didn't put up any fuss and we waited for 2 hours to see the vet.

I was debating whether or not to post this, but after a day it is still bothering me to the point of tears.

I was reading an academic work the other day and they classified transgender as "Tomboys" and "Sissies". I was wondering what the community thinks about these labels? I will put in my 2 cents after others have chimed in. I do know that there are several who have sissy in their name here, I want their input too.

I am trying not to take this as a sign that whenever things go too well that disaster has to strike in my life, but I am quite upset.

Ever since writing my latest piece, I've really lost the desire to produce.

Yesterday afternoon I was carted off by the paramedics to the hospital. I don't remember what happened, only what people have told me and it is quite upsetting/frustrating/sad.