Write as Rain

The next couple weeks are a little exciting....

For ME!

When I started this whole writing 'thing' I said I would not spend money on my writing until I made money with my writing.

Three years later, I made money! Chicken Soup published the Blessing Bowl and I am proud to announce that they accepted another story to be released in April.

Here's the book:



Pick it up to read the latest antics of my father. He's not quite sure what to think of his new-found celebrity :)

These two publications and the babysitting efforts of Grandma Judi have enabled me to attend a writers conference next weekend and pitch to an agent....really an agent???

Wish me luck.

In honor of my new found 'profession' here, is why I write....

I am a writer….

I am a writer….

I am a writer….

It took me a while to get used to saying this. Even now when I proclaim my new profession, I feel like someone is going to peek from around the corner and call me a phony.

But I’ve started to say it anyway.

I write.

I keep a blog.

I started blogging because we have a severely disabled daughter who ends up in the hospital quite often. The blog started as a way to keep family and friends informed of her variable condition. Surprisingly, my audience has grown and I am proud to say I have met wonderful, supportive people through this network.

But that’s not why I write.

I am a bit of an egomaniac. Okay, quite an egomaniac. I love it when someone reads one of my essays as says “Hey, that was good. I liked it.”

You like me? You really, really like me?

Well, I liked your article.

But that’s not why I write.

I write because I have to. I write because crazy ideas get caught in my head and clog up my brain. These ideas take too much room and then I can no longer remember where I put my car keys. I walk out of the house with two different shoes.

I write for the preservation and proper functioning of my head. Once finger meets keyboard, once I have purged my literary impediment, my brain can then remember to buy milk at the grocery store, brush my teeth and be pleasant to my husband. If I don't write, the entire household is literally, screwed.

My writing now includes working on a book….a memoir. A Memoir… this sounds quite self-indulgent to me.

Well yes, I am working on a book about my life. You will love it…because you will find me quite fascinating.

Honestly, I think my life is a little boring but this book idea came up and I’m running with it. Okay, maybe not running. I’m on year three of the book project and it’s still not done.

Recently at a writer’s luncheon, I sat next a man who just published his third book. I mentioned I’m still working on my first.

“How long have you been working on it?”

“Three years.” I replied quietly with a sheepish grin.

“It took me seven years to complete my first book. I loved the process. No agent deadlines, no editor timelines, just me and my book. We bonded; my book and I. After seven years, it was like a good friend. I was a little sad when I finished it.” He sipped his tea and looked a little dreamy.

Hmmmm...To become a companion with your thoughts. A friend to your stories....that sounds quite nice……perhaps, perhaps that is why I write.