I want to take a moment here and talk about why writing is so important to me and what exactly it does for me. So if I wander a little off track a little bit bear with me, because sometimes it seems I'm playing to an empty room in my everyday life.
Example, I live with a bipolar diagnosis. I take my meds. I keep my appointments with the doc and my psychiatrist and somehow my less responsible sister who can barely pay her way gets pregnant again hijacks most of all the help and my family fears her and her boyfriend so much that I get to sit at the doctor's office 45 minutes extra because her lazy boyfriend won't help my family out.
He's produced two children with my sister. Has no job, but has let my sister work while he goes to school. Has anyone here ever seen the episode of Roseanne where they try to put Mark through school? Yeah, it's kinda like that, only Mark worked. Oh if only life were like fiction. And somehow I'm going to be sitting at Seven Counties, my writing time ticking away while I wait for my best friend to pick me up at the same time a cab would.
I know the logical answer to all of this would be, you're 37 years old why do you give a shit what your sister and her family does? Why not just buy your own car and be done with them? And your parents who seem to be under their Svengali like trance? Because I'm on disability and clear less in a month than they have the collective ability to, and my royalty checks, well, I have a ways to go before I can live off those lol ;).
But enough with the belly aching, what can I control? I can write everyday. I can escape to worlds where bad things may happen, awful things may happen to my heroes and heroines but they can get their happily ever afters if I so choose. (Really it's more like they choose but who's quibbling right?) I have 12 contracts while some don't even have one. I have some really nice reviews and a close working relationship with one of my marketing directors at Hydra and a great editor in Tanja Cilia.
To be honest, my sometime writing partner is also my best friend, my spinster sister from another mister. And only she and ironically enough, my group understands that writing is the great love of my life and that most everything else can go to hell in a handbasket.
As for my family, they love me and ironically enough I love them. They support me as a writer but I think their vision of a successful author is the one where I get the lightning in a bottle success. I'd love that. But until that happens I'll keep cranking the words out and see where it takes me. Living at the bottom keeps me from believing my own press sometimes and keeps me from becoming an author who behaves badly.