Excuses Schmexcuses

I've been trying to post more often lately. It's made me realize how much I miss having that creative outlet to deal with...everything. I don't have much of an audience these days, which is nobody's fault but my own for absconding from the blogosphere to "find myself". But I think there might be an audience out there for me somewhere.

My friend Amy Sue Nathan just had her first book, "The Glass Wives" published, which thrills me to pieces. Go read it. It's good.

I've made lots of excuses for many years about why I couldn't write a book. Amy has the same number of kids and one less husband so, regrettably, my excuses are nullified by her damnable success. Curse you Amy Nathan!

In short...I've decided it's time to get serious. Quit screwing around, quit making excuses and just write a damn book already.

It may be slow going. I have a job and a family and although I do have a room of my own, (nod to Virginia Woolf) it doesn't afford me as much privacy or freedom as say...a life of my own.

But so what? So what if I only write a few pages each day. So what if it takes me ten years to get published? Olive Anne Burns didn't become a published author until her sixties. Probably because she had kids. (I joke...mostly). And she didn't even start writing "Cold Sassy Tree" until she was diagnosed with lymphoma.

It's never too late, is what I take from that.

I've done quite a few things in the last five years that I never, ever, ever thought I could or would do. Now I know I just have to make up my mind to do it.

And so I have.

See you on the New York Times Bestseller list?