If you were my children I could be charged with neglect. I have neither posted nor commented for nigh on a month and a half. Does it help to know that I was thinking about you while I was neglecting you? While excuses are like certain anatomical orifices I refuse to mention, like you, I have a good one for my abusive behavior. The last month and a half of my life has gone like this: Neglectful Blogger puts house on market by owner not really expecting any results; Careless Poster finds buyer in first week of posting house in newspaper; Spurning Writer FREAKS OUT BECAUSE SHE HAS TO PACK 11 YEARS WORTH OF ACCUMULATED NONSENSE QUICKLY; Shirking Author sells practically everything she owns and puts a bid on a new house; 30-Something Procrastinating Penmen moves back in with her momma (along with 3 children, husband, Great Dane, and deaf and blind Cocker Spaniel who has suddenly developed loss of bladder control.) But this is temporary, right? So I can handle this; Trifling Typist’s house deal falls through (a little appraisal snafu no fault of the buyer. These things happen)….duh, duh, duh.
So now do you forgive me? There are much sadder stories out there so I’m not really feeling too sorry for myself but the truth is, it’s made it difficult to find time to blog. Thanks to some tumultuous and timely weather, however, I’ve been able to write again and it has been like salve to my soul!
So this is what I want to know: what has writing done for you? It could be good. It could be bad. It could be both. Tell me.
Writing has been therapeutic, stressful, renewing, and revealing for me. It has changed me some. I didn’t see it at first or maybe I didn’t want to admit it but now I like being alone. I look for a quiet room and can’t wait for a day off or even a few hours off….to write. It’s not always so good. I think I’d be perfectly content somewhere with no other neighbors in sight, tucked away in the woods (perfect description of the house that fell through. Sigh.) I’ve turned into Hermit the Blogger.
I suppose it’s not a horrid thing but I’m feeling the disconnect and so I’m putting myself out there precisely to combat the evolution or I may turn green like the character in my latest YA novel. So, my ever supportive husband is planning a little dinner party with some strangers – friends of friends. He plans on bribing them with free food and asking them to come and allow me to pitch my novels to them in preparation for a conference I’ll be attending in April. He’s so clever.
What about you? Are you becoming a recluse and turning green? Are you discovering new aspects of yourself? Are you building thick layers and titanium determination?