Thoughts for today...writing, living, feeling...

For those of you who don't know, it's been a rough year for my family. We've had several things that didn't quite go our way. The economy sucks, my presidential candidate isn't going forward in the election, gas is too damned expensive and I can't seem to get my frigging car (which I just bought in April) to run from one place to another. These things, on top of a miscarriage and my husband's nine week long recovery from knee surgery were enough to drive me almost completely crazy. It's just been one shit storm after another. So, what keeps me from going completely crackers? Well, I'd have to say that aside from my daughter, my writing is the one thing I can count on to make me happy. No matter what else is going on, I can go to writing and put my feelings, however shitty, down on paper. I can choose to share these thoughts or keep them to myself. I can write angry or I can write happy, it really doesn't matter. The point is, I write.

Times like these make it difficult to concentrate on major writing projects such as my mystery series, but I have found that simply taking the time to jot down notes about what I would like to have happen in my book is a very effective way to gain ground. As a matter of fact, I have recently uncovered several scribblings that I made at various points during the past few months which made wonderful additions to what I am writing. I have written and rewritten Keeping the Faith at least three times now and I'm finally starting to like what I see. It is frustrating for someone like me, a person who hates rough drafts and rewrites, to continually revamp a story. I think, however, that this means I am growing as a writer. At least, that's what I'm telling myself.

I have been saying for the past six months that Keeping the Faith will be ready for publication by this Fall and I am diligently working toward my self-imposed due date. The setbacks have been tough, but I can always come back to the writing after a bad day. It keeps me going and reminds me that there is something in my life over which I have at least a little control. When all else fails, I can decide who lives or dies in my books. I decide who wins and who loses. I can make someone sick, and I can heal that person if I so choose. It's delusion at its finest. Although it doesn't make up for what I have lost in real life, writing does give me an outlet through which I can process the pain and the feelings that sometimes get lost in the daily shuffle. I can say what I need to say in any way I want to say it and this is very important when life is handing you a bunch of lemons.

It's probably obvious to you all that I'm a thinker, one of those analytical, what does it all mean types who drives everyone around me crazy. I love to pick things apart; sometimes I simply can't help myself. I just hope that my analysis of things is at least entertaining enough to keep you reading. If it isn't, I'll still keep writing. Complain if you like, hell, complain even if you don't like to, it's good for you. The point is, if you've got something to say then say it. It matters, even if it only matters to you.

Until next time...



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Give up the funk!

This is what I keep telling myself. I am in a funk about turning 35 on Friday. I can't seem to shake this terrible feeling that I'm at a major turning point in my life. Right now, I'm as happy as I could probably be. I have everything I need, though it wouldn't hurt to have more money. Of course, even when I had more money, it would have been nice to have more than that. I'm not even sure what good it would do. After all, the more you have, the more you spend.

In any case, turning 35 has me worried. I've been a worrier all my life, but now, I am a little overwhelmed with it. I've been reflecting alot lately on what else I have to offer. I'm past the age where I feel I can safely or sanely have more children. I've finished school a couple of times and they simply will not let me borrow more money to do something different. I've written two books and am now working on a third. I've been on a plane, I've traveled a little, I've even met Jerry Springer. What else is there?

Well, there used to be a very long list of things I wanted to do, but it has since been replaced by only one goal: living to see my daughter grow up safely and helping her get through life. Outside of that, everything seems trivial. Perhaps this is a temporary funk. I hope so, at least. There are still some things I would like to do, I just need to give myself permission to want them again. Once life gets rolling, it's hard to stop the train of guilt and obligation from running you down.

I think what I'll do is this: Stop worrying! Shit, it's bound to pass. After Friday, I'll still be the same crazy chic that wrote this post. I'll just have a new number attached to myself. Who cares, really? I still have my sense of humor. Actually, on Friday, I think I will make up a new list of things I want to do with the next thirty years. Seems like a worthwhile project for someone who's having a bit of a crisis. I'll let you know how that turns out.

Until next time...