I got my Writer’s Digest in the mail yesterday and that always makes me itch in a way that writing is the only way to scratch. Sometimes I write, often times I just ignore it and get cantankerous. But I have kept up blogging 6 days a week now for almost two months. I tend to repeat myself anyway so I will restate this. If no one is reading this I can live with it. I am simply trying to get some squeaky wheels into motion.
I actually have four followers in blogger.com and other friends commenting on facebook.
This is only taking 15 minutes a day or so when the kids are done with breakfast and brushing their teeth I am usually writing this. There is a big question like a hole in the roof with rain or honey dripping down that I can only go so long ignoring:
What do I really want to do? I have a novella and a children’s story that need work but have potential. I have fantasy and space opera and dystopian fiction in my head. And I was told I could write a memoir.
I could too. I could write about Naomi’s life, diagnosis, illness and death and my long road of grief and recovery. I could use the title of my children’s story and work it in.
This Writer’s Digest magazine has stuff about writing memoirs.
I feel I am at a crossroad where my usual course of action is to take the easy road of denial and safety from failure. Posting this here is a bold step that I may regret.
Denial has been so comfortable.
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