Has it been four months already since my last blog post? Seriously? *sigh*
Please forgive me. These past months have been.... difficult.
I caught the flu in mid-december, got married early January and my son and I have been sick non-stop since after the wedding. Cold after cold, and I've lost part of my sanity trying to find ways to sew us back to health. It's been rough but we're finally doing better.
My writing has been... nonexistant. I don't know about you guys, but I can't write unless I have a purpose in mind: memories pulled from long ago, short story, stories. I can't just pick up pen and paper and just . . . write. I know it's practice, but I keep wondering what the point is, you know?
So far, I've written four novels. They ALL need editing, and I haven't been able to get back into them. I can't seem to just drop what I've written, and tear into it. I feel pain at the thought. Am I the only one?
But the novel I'm most proud of is My Guardian Dog. It was based on crap I'd been going through at a certain point in my life and it's reflected in that novel. Well, the original version is. It's been reworked many - many - times since. But once again, I can't just let go of what I've written and start fresh, anew. I always seem to come back to the original version.
Anyway, my point is, a friend of mine recently approched me asking about the sequel to MGD that I'd planned to write eons ago. When she asked me that, and asked about what my plot was, my brain came alive again, demanded I be writing NOW.
So I went back over my notes and read over most of MGD (had to leave, haven't made it quite back yet haha) and I was reminded of how much I'd LOVED these characters, how attached I'd been to them. How much I'd fallen in love with the concept of my book, although I was able to see how much work it still needed.
And here I am. Torn between writing MGD and its sequel, trying to nurse myself back to health completely, praying to the God of Sun for some reprieve from the snow. And hoping to make it back here more often.
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