If this blog was a baby, I would have been reported to Child Protective Services by now. It’s time for me to step-up and parent.
So, by way of catching you up on my life as I know it, I’m sharing this post.
Once Upon a Time, I Had a Writing Groove…then the music changed.
A post made possible by the fact that my husband doesn’t read anything I write…except checks.
Four years ago, I retired after teaching high school English for twenty-five years and grooved myself right into being a full-time writer.
I basked in my writerly world for six months until my husband announced he was starting his own business, and he needed—guess who—to work for him. The groove became the rut my writing fell into and out of my reach. But he assured me I’d be able to take my laptop to work and write…between answering the phone, filing, and clients that barked, growled, pooped and peed. Did writing happen? Well, I took notes because how can you not when a man arrives with his snake in a cardboard box and tells you it has a cold, and he’s sure of it because the snake’s been sneezing. My journal/morning pages became my refuge, and I comforted myself with the knowledge that I was at least still capable of forming coherent sentences.
The full post can be found on Writers in the Storm.