Putting the Past Behind Me

This morning, I updated my Twitter profile:

I'm training to run my 1st 5K! I love my Husband, Kids.Dogs, Disney, Yoga & General Hospital. I wrote 6 novels. I can usually be found climbing Mt. Laundry.

And I tweeted:

I wrote 6 novels. Past Tense. Whoo hoo! I can finally say I'm done with writing without feeling guilty about stopping. #Accomplished #Next?

And it felt great.

I finished writing my last published novel, Inappropriate in 2008. Then I took an EMT course, became a volunteer EMT with an elite rescue squad. I also worked as a professional EMT in a hospital emergency room and cross-trained as a health unit coordinator (secretary) and a communications coordinator (I kept vigil over the EKGs and communicated with incoming ambulances). Needless to say, I wasn't writing during this time. 

In January 2010 my father died. In December, my mother joined him. I was executrix of their estates and it was a terrible mess. I finally convinced the government in August of 2013 they are dead and they won't be making any more money. What little they had got divided between three government agencies, the heirs got nothing. Anyhow, it was extremely stressful, I really let it haunt me as penance for being a weak daughter or something like that. Momma and Daddy are finally resting peacefully at Arlington National Cemetery.

I resigned from my job and went inactive with the rescue squad in January 2011. I wrote two more novel first drafts. Working titles Unchained Melody and Resuscitated. I went to writers conferences, was active on the online writing loops, held a BOD position with the Virginia Romance Writers and joined Sisters in Crime and a local chapter (a women mystery writers organization). I asked for a received rights back to all but one of my novels. I self-published them. I did a promo blitz. I got burnt out.

My writing pals encouraged me to keep writing. And I tried. But my heart wasn't in it. I didn't get joy. Nobody wanted to buy the books I already had out there. All I felt was guilt that I should be writing. Because my friends from back in the day were still writing. And they enjoyed it. But I didn't. I kept telling myself I'd take a break, then I'd write again. And every time I tried, I didn't want to write again.

I went to my last writers conference in New Jersey in October 2013. It was great running around with my dear pal, Sandra Cox (who just became a double grandmother). And it fell on my wedding anniversary, so my hunky husband came and surprised me with an intimate celebration in my room and an enjoyable ride home. I pitched to an agent whom I finally felt might like my work. We had dining at Disney in common. And he was a comedian, and I write funny. I also pitched to an editor who was polite. Both asked me to send them partials. I sent one to the agent. And never heard boo.

My kids both completed college in 2013. They both have jobs. They are still living in our family home, but are officially out of their father's pocket. My husband is retired from firefighting and working his second career. Our old dog has special needs and our new rescue puppy is lots of work. I have all the opportunity in the world to write now. And I still don't want to.

My beloved big sister, Beth, died two days before Thanksgiving 2013. Lung cancer. A non-smoker, she kept her illness a secret from me, wanting to wait to tell me after she was in remission. I found out a week before she passed. She is retired USAF. We are at war. There is a backlog at Arlington National Cemetery where she will have a ceremony with full honors. We still haven't had her funeral. I desperately need closure. I miss her terribly.

Today I gave myself permission to stop planning to write. Those unfinished manuscripts can remain undone. I can find something fun to divert the money I'm not sending to renew my memberships in Romance Writers of America, Virginia Romance Writers and Sisters in Crime.

I don't have to promote my books nobody wants to read. I can blog and tweet about things I'm interested in now. I can go to Disney World more often, instead of writers' conferences.

I can find something new and exciting or old and comforting to do with my time. I re-certified as an EMT in July 2013, in case I decide I want to jump back into that world. I miss helping people who are having really bad days. Right now, I don't know exactly what I want to do. Other than finish my first 5K. In EPCOT.

For Beth: Send in the clowns...