Happy New Year!
The passing of one year and beginning of a new always makes me sentimental. This year has been so full of ups and downs. On one hand, I’m glad to see it go, but on the other I know that change is on its way and that is a little scary. I’ve been writing a lot lately. I’ve made significant progress on one of my book projects. I wish I could say that I had 50 or even 25 pages, but alas, I do not. I’d like to submit the first 50 pages for a contest, which is due by Jan. 15 so I’ve been working really hard. A combination of overwork, laziness and total frustration with my computer keyboard has been delaying me. Little pieces of dust are in the keyboard and so the A, D, T and various other keys don’t want to work. It takes considerable pressure to make the keys work, thus making my typing about 1/3 as fast as normal. 😦 boooo. I suppose I should just go to Walmart and buy a cheap keyboard that I can hook up via USB or something. That would help. In fact, I think I will do so tomorrow morning.
I used to make New Year’s resolutions, but this year so many things are happening already, that I’m just trying to keep up with what is already happening — oh and also try to keep my room cleaner! Ha. I was doing much better than normal until Christmas, where my indulgence, as usual, led me astray. I do have a plan and I think it will be good. If you are the praying type, I would appreciate prayers or positive thoughts or whatever way that manifests for you about my writing. Penning a novel has always been a dream of mine, ever since I could read! Making books and telling stories is ingrained in me and I feel a sense of purpose that I don’t feel in anything else. There have been bumps. I have been thinking back on my writing time though and I realized that the only people who have ever disapproved of my writing were not people that I really admire or respect. They are also not people who have been privy to my fiction writing. I’ve usually had support in that area. It is so hard to judge, though. I let friends and family read my stuff, but I can never tell if they are just being nice or if they are too biased or if what I send is really good. I suppose we’ll find out. I believe in the stories I’m telling. They are as good or better than much of what I’ve read lately — but I cannot tell if my writing is worthy of the stories. I suppose every writer wrestles with such things.
With the coming year, I also realize that it is my 10 year class reunion. I’ve always wanted to go and cannot wait to see where everyone is — even people who I’m sure don’t remember me! But it also brings a sense of sadness. I’m not sad as many of my friends (*cough, cough, cough* Louie *cough, cough, cough*) about “getting old.” But I am sad to think about Mark not being there. I’m sure he never knew how much I valued our friendship, but I hope that he does now. Even though he won’t be there, I hope that in spirit he will be. It is also strange to think about how different I am. I feel a little bit like the high school me has slowly vanished. There are similarities, of course, but I am so vastly changed that I hope people still recognize and like me. To those I love, thanks for sticking with me through one of the most difficult years of my life — I’m sure that I was not always a joy to talk to or be around. I wish the very best for all of you.
Beijos! (as they sign in Brasil)