February 2, 2011


I’m a writer. I want to be a published author. The last year and a half of my life has been dedicated to making the second statement happen. Sounds good, right? I have the luxury of staying home with my kids so it was relatively easy to announce I was becoming a full time writer. “This is my job,” I told my kids. “I just do it at home. If I work hard enough, one day I will get paid.” And so I worked hard. I worked for hours in the morning, afternoon, evening and into the night. I rarely took a day off. If I went a day without writing or editing I felt guilty. Deep in my gut, I knew this wasn’t good. There were days I could have spent with my kids that I sat in front of a laptop. Times I was invited by non-writing friends to go out for coffee, or lunch and I hesitated to say yes. I stopped watching so much tv, cut the time I spent reading, gave up hobbies, because that’s what writers are told, right? Butt in chair. Nothing happens if our butt isn’t in a chair. And I want […]