For the first time in my life, I am learning not to be driven. I was born with an internal schedule to meet. For the last couple of years, I can't hit the grind. I've got other things to do and well I fall asleep in my chair at the end of the evening.
I've grieved about different things in my life and nursed disappointments but this is one I am having a difficult time accepting.
I've got bookcases with super books to peruse. I snag terrific books at a thrift store that helps support developmentally delayed citizens in Warner Robins and from Amazon. If you could feel the roar I have to mow through it all, sit at my drafting table and create coordinate line graphs that produce pictures, create school activities, write my stories.
I've joined the A to Z blog challenge. I'm starting to notice so many serious writers with published books writing a blog. I assumed I would be one by now. I don't even have a manuscript ready at this point.
However, I am still going to two writer conferences this year and keep my mouth shut. At this point I am a hobbyist at most. At the writer's police academy, I told a woman she looked just like a woman pictured on the website. I almost told her what a pretty girl she was with beautiful eyes. I am sort of glad I did not say all of that. It turns out she is a well known best selling writer. It could have made her day or incredibly livid.
There are so many writers out there. When I went to college, one of the profs would joke that Georgia had more Baptist than people. I sometimes wonder if there are more writers than readers. I know there are more couch potato television addicts than readers.
So where do I stand I say. I have read an 18 year olds blog and she writes better than me. I am not only off schedule but incredibly late.
So I guess I will just get used to it.