Ok, I’m a writer. A full time (well, when I’m not “mommying” or driving or whatever) published writer. But, I was sitting outside on the porch tonight, smoking (I know, don’t bother me about it), drinking my sweet tea (a great Southern delicacy, let me tell you) and I started thinking about things. I tend to do this a lot – think. Especially at night. I think. Soooo….I realized after much introspection that I have allowed myself to get way off track and I have stopped to look around and realized I am on the completely wrong path. My goals and dreams were way back there somewhere and I have managed to pass them and get lost. Which is where I am now. I am sort of looking around, in a forest, and all I see are a bunch of trees, rocks and a little path that I have managed to pave as I trodded down the wrong way. Reaching for things – but, they are all the wrong things and, shit, I’m tired. And, I realize this has all been in vain, because somewhere back there in those woods, back on that path, by the rocks…I lost myself.

I think I left my passion on a rock somewhere. I must have dropped my voice back in that little pond I was looking in. My goals are scattered all over the place, some leaf ants were carrying some along on their backs a while ago. I saw them, but I didn’t really care much. I didn’t want to go through the effort of picking them all up and putting them together and trying to realize them again. Too much work. I would just keep going wherever it is I was going.

I have always known I would write. I do not, nor have I ever wanted, to write a best selling book. I don’t really like writing fiction – my life reads like fiction, anyway. It has certainly felt like fiction. Unreal. Hazy. Mostly forgotten.

I have also always realized my purpose. From when I was too young to know what “purpose” meant, I knew I had a reason for being here. To write. And not just write stuff. I don’t want to write fluff or snarky celebrity gossip or rude and insensitive criticisms, although that all has its place and I love to read it sometimes. I wanted to write to make a difference. A big difference. In thousands of lives. Women’s lives. Girl’s lives. Really – not even being cute or cliche. I really never even cared if I got paid, although that would be a really nice perk since we are so beyond broke. I won’t even get into the money thing right now because it has just taken over my life and it effects every single thing I do and I’m sick of it. Just like food – it just takes over and I get so sick of hearing about it and thinking about it and dealing with it, I don’t even want to eat anymore. I wish I could just take a pill every day that gave me all the nutrients I needed and that’s it. Any-hoo, back to my other train of thought.

So, I am sitting here and I am lost. I had started writing, really writing – meaning queries and submissions and actually writing and researching articles, a few months ago. I got several acceptance letters right away. I sent in my work, before the deadlines, and was published in several publications. And then I quit. Don’t have a clue why. I just decided I didn’t like writing very much and it was boring to me and too much actual, well, writing. I wanted to be a writer, but I didn’t want to write. OK, so I decided to try and tackle it again a few months ago. And this time I was serious. I studied, payed for classes, read books, researched the internet – everything but actually writing. This is where my travels began into this forest – into where I stand now. I found my calling. I answered and started to follow it. I made some good turns along the way and have followed every single bit of advice I have received from all the writers and authors who were willing to give it.

The first leg of my journey was “query lane”. Let’s look into that chapter soon, shall we? Because now, I need to step into my “mommying” mode and do the mommy thing (again) of baths, bed and all that stuff. God forbid my travelling companion (my husband) should get off the computer and do it…he’s busy downloading war movies and music. So, I shall return.

One thing I know for sure….I am finding the pieces of ME and I will not let it get lost again. I don’t care about the editors, predators, “professionals”, or anyone else. It will be my voice – my heart and soul. I would hate if nobody relates to me or if nobody “feels” me – but, it’s all I can do to get out of this trap I have found myself in. And I have a feeling the more I let ME out, the closer I will get to the right path and there will be something there. Because, there has to be. It’s the only way. The only way I know. The only way.

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