Every so often, I take (mental) stock of the events that have transpired in my life over the months preceding said inventory, and sometimes the things I discover surprise me. For instance, I recently made the comment to someone that I had been to more "book things" in the past six months than I had in the past three years. It started with the launch of J.T.'s third standalone thriller in August and carried me through to the Murder in the Magic City conference I've been a big proponent of since 2003. That was in February. And it brought something home for me that has been quietly steeping on the back burner for six months.
Old friends. In my rather lengthy dissertation on the reappearance of my muse, I mentioned reconnecting with some of my old writer friends. I've been doing that quite a bit over the last six months. In listening to these friends talk about their latest books, their writing process, and where they're going next, I found myself thinking about the book (the one I left untouched for three years before digging it out of the laptop storage files, brushing it off and picking away at it) in much greater detail and with much greater enthusiasm than before. And it's finally happened. The epiphany, the aha moment, that tiny spark of an idea that changes the whole course of your story.
Now, granted, I thought this moment happened a long time ago. A very. LONG. Time ago. Apparently, I was wrong. But it's okay. I'm re-inventing myself. Again. And that's okay too.
Older and wiser. Today is my birthday. Bonus, it's Saturday. And since I've already cleaned the house this week (the WGH will expound ad nauseam on how I only clean when we're expecting company, and that happened Thursday), today I am free to do whatever I want. Two of our three Amazing Offspring will be here for dinner - which I am cooking myself, because, you know, I can - but I have a nearly full day ahead of me to write, watch basketball, write, do some laundry, watch more basketball (go BIG10), run to the store to get the stuff to make said birthday dinner, and, um, let's see ... oh yeah, write.
Hey, it's what I do.
Foster Puppy is happily gnawing on her chew-bone, the rest of the household is still quite asleep, and I need coffee. So until next time, have a great day, and read a book. It's good for you.
