An *Actual* Update
I feel like I’ve been running around like crazy and haven’t stopped to take a moment and savor all that’s happened lately. But today–finally–I’ve stopped long enough at Starbucks to write this down.
Deep, cleansing breath…do it with me. Aaah. Better already. Let’s do this, yes?
First, I’m feeling inspired this morning because my favorite barista is working and I love observing her. She knows everyone’s name and their entire life story. It feels like an episode of Cheers when she’s working. “Stan! How’d that foot surgery go? Extra shot of espresso today? How’s Linda?” She’s the town therapist.
Okay. So I’ve been frantically working to meet my deadlines, which is why I’ve been pretty absent from the blogging world. But I managed to turn in my second teen novel, BUSTED, on time. Woo-to the-hoo! (I can’t believe I just wrote that either.) The novel tried to kill me a couple of times, but eventually, I think somewhere around page 200, I ran out of my office and screamed at my husband, “The book’s not going to kill me! I actually love it!!”
I’m guessing this is normal for writers (or some of them)–you wrestle with something until eventually you fall in love. Sort of like real life, you know?
I took two entire days off to relax before diving back in to draft THE CLASSROOM Book 2. But of course, my immune system was like, “Nuh-uh, honey. You’re going to take off a whole ‘nother week in misery with a cold. So there, lady.” My immune system has an attitude.
I’ll admit, my life has changed drastically since getting the book deal. True, my dreams came true and I’m brought to tears on a regular basis. Amazing. But it also meant that in order to keep up with writing two books a year I had to write all the time. To get my teen novel done, I worked seven days a week for four months, sometimes 12-14 hours a day. It was crazy. This past year I’ve definitely worked more than I did as a social worker or a teacher. My son has seen the workers at Subway more than me.
Honestly, I didn’t know it was going to be this way. Couldn’t I just write an hour or so and then drink Mai-Tais until the pool boy was done cleaning so I could do some serious floating?? Nope. I spend hours upon hours in my writing chair until my shoulder and neck pain forces me to actually put on clothes and go see my chiropractor. Sometimes I get excited for the pain because I know it means I get to put on mascara and leave the house to see the doctor. Glamour!!
But here’s the thing about the work…it’s different. Even though my hours have increased, it doesn’t feel like work. I go to bed giddy with excitement about my next day of writing. I’ve never felt that way about any job I’ve ever had–there was always some sense of dread about some part of the job. But with writing, it’s all in my control and it taps into a creative part of me that gives me endless energy.
I have to say, with everything that’s happened this past year, that is my favorite part of it all…that I have a job that makes me giddy. It’s something I wish for everyone.
Find what makes you giddy. And then do it all the time.
Meanwhile, I’m back to watching my favorite barista/therapist talk to some guy named Jerry about whether he should buy an RV when he travels this summer. I want to know the answer!