I cannot believe it's Friday again (which is why I'm posting in the evening rather than this morning when I was supposed to). :)
December has got to be the fastest month in the history of the calendar. As soon as December 1st arrives, I get this rushing sensation like hanging onto the bar of a convertible jeep on the freeway. Yeah, it's that fast!
After the fast writing marathon of November, December is usually break month for a lot of writers and agents - a time to focus on family and the warmth-inspiring holidays.
To be honest, I've been taking a break from writing for a while now. I haven't really gotten back into it since my accident in June. I'm all better now from that, but the writing splendor I was enjoying daily prior just hasn't returned. Maybe it's because I needed some time to let my survival soak in. My husband told me the guys at the impound lot, or junk yard or wherever they take cars to die, took one look at the non-existent front of the car and asked wide-eyed what happened to the driver. I don't take my survival for granted. My kids and I are still here because of angels. So that's something that has taken a lot of processing.
Now I'm expecting my third child and taking care of two little munchkins who are growing up way too fast - like every day is December 1st. Sometimes there are things in life that just throw you for a loop, make you realize what matters the most. That's what this accident did for me. Lying in bed the next day, unable to move at all without tremendous pain, the concept of my mortality felt really close.
While there was a part of me that thought what a waste all my rough drafts would be if that had happened, it was a very small part. I LOVE writing. But not as much as I love being a wife, a mother, a sister, and a daughter.
I'm not giving up on writing by any means. Now that November is officially over (It's December 9th already!!!), I'm sure I'll get a swift kick in the rear from my awesome CPs and we'll start sharing again. I'm looking forward to that because writing is something that fulfills me, even if it's not THE THING that fulfills me or makes me ME.
To be honest, I'm kind of relieved to have discovered that. It's liberated me from this deep-rooted competitiveness within that made me feel less-than just because I'm nearly 30 and not published. Because of my accident, I'm staring down my high school reunion at the end of this month, just a few Christmas-y weeks away. And I'm excited.
Who cares what I've accomplished? I'm alive and I'm in love with my husband and my kids. I fall for them more every single day. That's who I am.
Writing is just the cherry on top.