Sunday Snippet: The More Questions for the Universe Edition

Summer is almost over, and I’m damned if I know what happened to it. One minute it was April and we were opening up the lake cottage, and the next, it’s September and the leaves on our little sweet gum tree are changing. My personal life has been an upheaval of joys and sorrows lately, but I’ve been working practically nonstop all summer long. Editing gigs are always a good thing, except they interfere ferociously with my writing time. If I work for eight or ten hours, I’m loathe to sit down at the computer again after supper to write some more.

But this week, I’ve been working on the second Juniper Falls Ranch story and I’m so close to THE END, I can taste it. The next story in the series sends me to my notebook as ideas keep cropping up. I love that feeling when the creative juices are flowing. It’s almost sensual. I can spend hours world-building and refining characters and bringing a story to life, and I come away exhausted, but exhilarated. The current story sloshes around in my brain even when I’m not at the computer–while I’m driving, vacuuming, standing at the kitchen sink–characters knock at the door of my mind begging to be let out. When that happens, it’s as if I’ve found my true calling, my life’s work. But then real life stuff and work  interfere again . . .

So many of my fellow authors are amazing and so prolific that I’m constantly in awe of their abilities to produce story after story. I get distracted by life, but they steam through almost anything, including day jobs, and continue writing. I really would love to be like that when I grow up as a writer, but maybe it’s not my style to be so prolific. Maybe I’m not going to crank out books at a fantastic rate. Frequently, when I’m dispirited and wondering if I’m any kind of a writer at all, I have to remind myself that I’ve already had twenty (20!!) books published since 2012, with the newest one coming out in just three weeks! And that book #21 is almost ready to send to my editor.

I’ve thought about letting the copy editing go for a while and just concentrating on writing, but I’m too much of a coward. The day job pays for necessities like groceries and pleasures like the lake cottage and boat gas, pedicures, and writing retreats. I want those things too, so does that mean that I’m not focused enough on the craft to be a truly successful author?

When I’m writing, I’m happy, complete. When I’m not writing, I’m worrying about not writing, but I also love my work and getting paid and lunches with my sister and time with my friends and cruising on the lake with Husband on a warm sunny afternoon. Should I be sacrificing more for my art? More willing to give up pleasures in order to write more hours? Or is it enough for me to write at my own pace? I don’t know, I’m asking . . . that’s the question for the Universe today. Will I ever be content with my level success as an author or will I always feel like I’m not doing enough?

Gratitude for This Week: So close to THE END on Bo and Cassie’s story; ARC readers are loving Forever Cowboy; the weather has been perfectly gorgeous; my flowers are still blooming; A good time at the DeHaan mansion restaurant with Mo and Sis; Fun with Son and Grandboy at an impromptu Friday night dinner.

Stay well, keep speaking out–it’s the only way we will survive, always choose kindness, and most of all, mes amis, stay grateful!

PS: I’m at Harvest Fest in Fishers, Indiana today, signing books with four other local authors. The event happens all along the Nickel Plate Trail from noon to five p.m., but we’ll be in the parking lot of the Hamilton East Public Library. Stop by if you’re out and about on the gorgeous day! Go here for all the deets!