Feb 8, 2010
I have always wanted to write a novel. At any given time, I have a ton of book ideas running through my head. As I fold laundry, or mow the lawn, bathe babies, or cook dinner, I develop complex plotlines and robust characters. A couple weeks ago a serendipitous meeting with a life coach landed me with the opportunity to have a space of my own to come write. So now every Sunday I leave my wonderful partner Craig with the kids and head out to make my dream a reality. On the way, I stop and get a mocha (a real treat since we don't usually spend money on those anymore) and head to this quiet, peaceful space to write. I have written this book so many times in my head that it is just flowing out of me.
Initially I just started writing the first chapter, but today I decided I should get an outline blocked out so I can get a better feel for the whole book. As the plot and characters and descriptive language flow, I am quite literally in heaven. I love this writing thing. With thoughts of publishing and serials set aside for the future, I am alive in this creative moment. Streaming my main character's thoughts as if they were my own, and sharing her journey with eager anticipation, I am writing.