The Writer in Me is Happy Again

I love writing. It is my passion. My go-to creative outlet.

It is the reason I buy lottery tickets. Because I dream of having enough money to be able to spend my days writing and not worry about how I’m going to pay the bills.

And everyone that truly knows me…knows this about me.

But you know who doesn’t seem to understand this? My life. Because in my life I never seem to find the time to pursue my passion. That taking the time to write anything longer than an occasional blog post is time that could be better spent doing something else.

So I have realized I must TAKE the time. I must make it a priority.  And today I did just that.

I had a rare full day off. There was lots of stuff I could have done.  Laundry. House cleaning. Appointment making. Closet organizing. And so on and so forth.

But I didn’t do any of that.

Instead, I pulled out all the work I have done over the past 8 (!) years on my novel, grabbed my laptop and headed out in search of the perfect cafe to write in.

I found it. Got myself a latte, settled down at a quiet corner table…and I wrote.

I forgot how much I had already written. How in-depth my characters already were. I fell right back into my fictional world and it felt good to be there again.

Three hours flew by and in that time I added 1,500 words to the more than 12,000 I had already written. And as I packed up my stuff I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.

Today was a good day for the writer in me.  And when she’s happy…that makes everything better.

I plan to let her out to play a lot more often.


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