Hopefully, anyway. I have selfishly allotted myself too long a hiatus from exercising my writing muscles outside of either second guessing what I have down for future novels or editing other folks’ projects. My justifications are plentiful, but I doubt you will find them interesting. Suffice to say, I need to get back on the bisopoticorn* and ride.
But what fantastic insights have I developed since Mother’s death shut down my Metaphor Generator? Is that even fair? Her prolonged illness, death and all the following reorganization…how much of a jackass am I to let that justify being creatively lazy? I think the answer to that is: A huge frigging jackass. Mother was supportive of my writing antics. With just a few exceptions, she liked what she read and asked for more. I know what a blessing that is and I acknowledge I have used that responsibility as a hurdle instead of a trampoline. If she is, in fact, perched next to Dad and watching from the Afterlife they would both be pursing their lips and giving me the ol’ Simpson Stink Eye.
I hate that stink eye.
So I’m back at it. I wish it were enough to just focus on the novels and simultaneous editing gigs (because practice and bills). However, much to my chagrin, it’s no longer the 20th Century and “an electronic presence” is attractive to potential publishers. And those publishers are my dysfunctional abusive not-yet-lovers.
I appreciate the patience of folks who’ve followed this blog on any level. This evening I leave you with my current guilty pleasure of hopeful future goosebumps. Because if Godzilla can keep trying…I have no excuse to not.
*To be continued…