Writing is hard. Or so my students sometimes think.  I am thankful to see them bent over their laptops, furiously trying to reach their 30,000 words by December 4th (our class deadline for their NaNoWriMo entries).  Several students are pitted against each other to see who can rise to the top before November 30th.

Today I achieved 50,000 words in my second novel.  It is a mess, it rambles, it twists, it meanders.  I brim with gratitude for all the experiences that allowed me to write this second novel, even if it goes nowhere.

In Start by Jon Acuff, he mentiones that when we find our passion it is something we would do, even if we weren’t paid.  He is right.  If I never make a single, solitary cent off of my writing (which I, naturally, hope isn’t the case) I would still do it.  I bank the hours, work multiple projects, re-arrange my schedule, have even temporarily given up dancing (something I love) to explore my passion.

My house is a neglected mess, laundry piling up, Christmas presents still not wrapped to send abroad, filing to my right and a broken lens to my left.  I ignore it all in order to meet those self-imposed deadlines that weigh on my mind morning and night.

I cannot say thank you enough and I probably never will to everyone who has joined me on this journey from my co-workers at my school, friends abroad, and fellow writers on the Word Cloud.

50,000 words today, a book published yesterday.  There is a lot to be grateful for.

The latest finished project is here:

Thanks for stopping by!