I haven’t been blogging forever. I was busy with the Quince, but when that passed, I took up writing. It's been nonstop. I usually don’t write too much in the summer. My kids are out of school, and they’re always wanting things from me. Breakfast and packed lunches and rides and money. Only this year our lives took a bit of a turn. This year my kids became involved in things that didn’t require parental supervision. I dropped them off and picked them up. They went their own way, and I wrote. I wrote myself silly. I wrote and wrote, and almost finished a manuscript. Then last week someone asked how my writing was going, I said, “like butter.” She rolled her eyes. Now, I was on the phone with said person, but I distinctly felt eyes roll. "Is that a literary term?" I heard next.
Now here’s the thing, now that I’m out of the closet and telling the world I’m a writer, I been feeling the pressure of such an outrageous declaration. It’s gotten so bad, I had a hard time writing notes in graduation cards this year. Seriously. I couldn’t just scratch out some note after all. Not any more. I had to write something memorable. Something beyond "good." Well, I don’t know if I achieved that goal. Most likely those kids grabbed up the checks and didn’t bother with the note. I know I did at that age. Didn’t think my parents' friends had any knowledge worth imparting. But still, I struggled. I worried even those few words be scrutinized.
I thought writing, getting an agent, was somehow going to complete me. It hasn't actually gone that way. It's gone another. It's called, "the opposite," it ain't at all like butter.
And yeah, that's a literary term, too. Look it up.
I also wanted to thank Sharon Mayhew for giving me the poke, getting me back here, sharing stories and sharing words. It's beyond good to be here. Go on her site and check out what she wrote about that very thing...Who do you share with?
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