faith, Fiction, life, Writing

It’s 4:49am on the last day of January, a Tuesday nonetheless, and I am awake. On purpose. This time last year I was still recovering from the first of two trips to the hospital, and I was working on writing a book. I felt a sense of empowerment to try to put some of the things that happen in my head on paper. I had nearly died and I realized I didn’t want to die without at least trying to follow a few of my dreams. There was a lot going on in my life surrounding that time…I had left my job at the golf course, my ex husband was living in my apartment, and we even went to Colorado for Christmas together.

I persevered through 5 months of writing my book. I dedicated more time to this one novel than I ever had to any of the others I had started. In fact, truth be told, the first draft is within about 5 pages of completion. But I haven’t honestly touched my book since last May. Because I was knocked off track once again by something I didn’t expect and I couldn’t face my happily in love characters as I walked through another trying time in my life.

I have struggled with many ups and downs since May, including another hospital stay, the opening and closing of my second home daycare, my sister moving down here, and more. Yet, at I sit here at almost 5am on a Tuesday morning, I’m finally ready to face my happily in love characters. I’m ready to start at the beginning of their journey and start the process of revising each line into something more fit for publishing. I’m ready to round the corner and face the last 5 pages of the first draft.

Is there love in the air? I don’t know yet how to classify it. I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you all that I am more than a little scared, but I am also hopeful, excited, and ready to see what’s going to happen.

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