Frenetic

That's how I feel most days.  Rushing here and there.  Working at the day job.  Working at the house.  Making sure my kids have what they need.  Having a relationship going on four years.
I'm...busy.
But isn't everyone anymore?
Seems like.

The only time I truly think about my writing and stories and ideas and whatnot is right before I go to sleep.
Not exactly a lullaby, you know?
But I guess it's not only then.  Anytime I'm not occupied with life in general and can take a minute to let my mind wander...it does.
Back to the writing.  To the stories.  To the voices in my head.

But you know what really sucks?
I only let them put a foot in the door.  There is only one time in my life I've let them bust the door wide open and accepted all of it on a day-to-day basis.  And I wasn't working 40 hours a week then.  I'd write 4000 words easily per day up to 7000 on my most prolific.
I immersed myself in them.  And it was glorious.

Balance is not easy.  And I'm not much of a balanced individual.  (Hush, people)
I run till I fall.  Balls to the wall.  Throwing myself into whatever it is that I'm in.

I HAVE to make room for the stories.  Because right now I feel lopsided and out-of-sorts.
Nothing more satisfactory to me than writing.  Nothing feeds my soul like the words.
I need to get past the feeling that I'm being selfish with my time.  How does one do that?
Definitively, one would guess.

And what do I want to work on?
Well, then.
First book in a five book series.  And a few others in the series.
Erotic Paranormal.
Short romance.

Wish me luck.

Everything has a season

Hello all!

Half the year is over, and here I am.  Realizing that the last story I submitted was July last year.  And shame on me for not keeping up in the meantime.
There are excuses, of course.  In no particular order:
Two daughters graduating
Two daughters getting their license
One daughter taking off for another state
That daughter coming back
Two daughters coming and going
Painting the house
Migraines
Health issues
Expensive car issues
Meeting in-laws
Grandson birthday
Other grandson birthday in July

But these are just THINGS.  Roadblocks, yes.  Pains in the ass...OMG...YES!  But in the still of the night when I try to unwind, I see my stories.  I feel them.  I can taste them.
Same five-book series in progress.  One erotic romance that I really do love and can't wait to get into a bit more.  Maybe 10,000 in on that one?
I miss the words.  I miss the immersion.  I miss becoming pissed off at the characters and glaring at them through my computer screen.

So what am I going to do about this?  I have a short week next week with the holiday.  Closed for business Thursday, and I took off Friday.  I think it's time to quit letting all these external forces sit on my chest and beat at me with closed fists.

I ran into a dear friend yesterday at Wal-Mart.  He writes horror stories.  Always been a storyteller, even when we were young teens.  And the joy I felt in speaking with him, with another writer, lingers in me still.

I'm never fully anything until I let that part of me breathe.  So I'll try and wake the creativity from its hibernation and make nice.  Apologize and see if we can hold hands and be friends again.
Because I can't live without it.

Chrys*