Because I am a writer. And I love it.
The cumulative stress of a year plus of unprecedented insecurity and constant change, coupled with this weird new anxiety, compelled me to seek professional help. My counsellor told me that along with movement, mastery and mindfulness- things I was careful to engage in the last year-meaningful connection is essential for good mental health. How does a natural introvert leave the safety and security of Zoom meetings and quiet evenings at home and resume the face-to-face connections so vital for their health? Slowly. Thoughtfully. And with a great deal of deal of self-kindness.
How do I reignite my creative fire?
I do it because I have no other choice.
If no one ever reads what I write- read, if what I’m writing is never published- what the hell is the point, anyway?
Given everything this year has thrown my way, why did I think now was the right time to pledge to write 50,000? Wouldn't it be better for everyone if I let 2020 take the win? Hell no!
When the world gives you lemons, make lemonade.
I've fallen off the writing wagon. Again. Honestly, I've lost count of the number of times this has happened to me in the years I've dared to call myself Writer. Three? Four? Who knows? This time, though, it's different. This time, I think I might stay off. I gave up anger for Lent this… Continue reading Something’s Got To Give
Writer's need patience, this gal reminds me to work on mine.
It’s that time of year again, when writers worldwide pledge themselves to the daunting task of committing 50,000 words to the page. The equivalent to writing a novel in a month. Yes, it’s NaNoWriMo! Train, Baby, Train Notice I said like a novel in a month. These 50,000 words rarely, in their entirety, end up… Continue reading We’re All Mad Here