I made an observation tonight. I am only about eight chapters away from finishing my latest work, September. I spend the majority of my days thinking of how to frame the next chapter, what they will say, what will happen. I do all my writing in the evenings, in my bed, my laptop perched on my lap just as it is now while I write this blog post.
Today was no different, my mind distracted as the husband drug me around the Ski and Snow Expo, my mind more lost in the fictional lives of Ethan and Blake than of hubbys ramblings about bindings and snowboards. It was my full intention to write the next chapter as soon as I got home, since I left readers with a bit of a cliffhanger last night.
Unfortunately, as soon as I lay down to write, I felt horrible. Nausea, dizziness, stomach pains. I even posted on my Wattpad that I wouldnt be able to post a new chapter tonight because of my less than stellar stomach, but the moment I hit post, I felt guilty. Haha.
So, i popped gravol, Tylenol and drank a whole glass of water, and set to it. After a while, I lost myself in my writing, just like I tend to do while reading.
So my observation is this...I love writing. i really do. When Im not writing, i actually feel twitchy. After I finished the Afterlife series, I spent about three weeks with nothing on the go. The entire time, I felt incomplete. Like I HAD to be writing something. I toyed around with ideas, bounced them off my friends, until the concept for September came to me. Now that Im writing again, its like a void is filled.
I never knew what I wanted to do with my life in terms of career. I am an RN, and that is my job. It is not my passion, however. I honestly thought I wasnt one of those people who could ever have a passion, something that they really loved and HAD to do. Apparently, I was wrong. Because in writing the silly stories from my head and losing myself in my own rambling, I found that passion.
Just an observation....
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