I’m leaving for closing momentarily and packing up the PC on return.  Comments will be moderated when I’m back online, so it’s all in Verizon’s hands.

Pray for us. So far nothing has gone right with the closing.

ciao for now

I’d been dreading writing so damn much, and now I don’t know why because it’s freeing. And Beautiful. And it’s making me happy, this editing.

Crazy. I’ve feared it so much, and it turns out it’s all I want. It’s just beautiful. I forgot how in love I was with my characters, how like old friends or dear family members they are.

So foolish of my to have wasted so much time without them. Now, back on my to-do list: recreating this site so it can showcase my work; returning to workshops to recharge and be held accountable for my fiction writing, and maybe I can start - God Willing - writing poetry again.

Now that would be something…

So, tonight, for the first time since JUNE, I picked up on my fantasy story, and started to edit again. It’s good, really good, and my character makes a comment that at once was sad and poignant - to me:

“I don’t even know WHAT my mother is now,” I said between sobs.  “Is she alive?  Dead?  Superhuman?  I have no idea, but she can never be just my mother ever again.”

I wrote this, I think, inspired by my own mother’s slide into Alzheimer’s.  I wonder if the line will touch readers the way I want, the way I feel.  The mother’s slide from being a queen to being something other worldly does seem (to me) to mimic what I feel about Mom.

Wow.  It’s really a lovely story I’ve written here.  I NEED to finish it, all I needed to do was to get back to it.  I’ll commit now to at least work on it weekly, if not nightly, even for a little bit, and when I’m settled in my new home, I’ll look for a writer’s support group.

Or start one.  Good deal.

It’s the worst possible time to start working on ANY project, business is booming, and I’m relocating to a home hubby and I are building in less than 30 days, BUT when ya gotta write, ya gotta write.

So last night I put in a section on my story about the daughter dealing with her mom’s Alzheimer’s.  My approach, I believe, is unique, and I’m thinking that this is exactly the kind of story that can get me into an MFA program in a few years.  That’s a while off, first I need my BA.  Besides, it will take time to write.

This makes me happy.