I figured out what I want – and that is to be a writer.  

This may not be a revolutionary idea to some, but there are times when people say they want to do something because it’s the in thing or because they like it for a week or two or whatever…and for a while I thought that was writing for me.  

But lately, it changed.  Part of it was thanks to Rosalyn for starting a writer’s group – something that gave me accountability and deadlines and friends who tell me my writing doesn’t suck.  I don’t think I can ever repay her for the idea and willingness to ask me to join when we passed each other on the elementary playground in the midst of mom-dom.

Part of it was realizing that for the last two years of  my life, I felt like a partial person.  I have a job that I enjoy (for the most part…it is a job….) and kids who are amazing and a super supportive husband, but I couldn’t find my thing – that spark that gave me passion in life.  And writing has done that for me.  

And about four months ago, I started calling myself a writer.  And then I had a friend introduce me to one of her colleagues as a writer.  And I have this thing, burning in my soul (so to speak) that makes me feel like I’m on the cusp of a life better than I’ve lived so far.  

I’m taking time away from my kids – sometimes.  I’m separating myself from TV more and more.  And I’m dreaming of my characters again.