So what's your book about?

My quick pitch is:
A female werewolf must come into her alpha status and mate with twin werewolf brothers to save her race. 

A well made lady.

I made a decision of late. The money is no longer worth it. The all mighty dollar I have been chasing since college graduation is worth less. Less then my time, less than my family, less than my happiness.

But my career has defined me for ten years. Moving up, moving on, making more. Always moving. But know it is time to go back. I don’t know if I will have to give up my career to do this. But it is ok.

Exercising my muse

My Muse Dwayne Johnson


I found in the past doing other artistic things limbers up my muse. Getting him ready to do some serious damage on a blank page. Some things include painting, sew and quilting. But as this day closes, after sitting at my sewing machine all day. He will not come out of hiding. It’s like he has decided it’s more comfortable in his little hole he retreated to months ago. Refusing to come out and play.

How will I get him to play with me? I miss him so. It was a nice feeling sitting in front of my computer and my fingers flying. Like someone else was moving through me, pouring the story on the page. I could see the action in my head, not unlike watching TV. It was one of my favorite shows. But the actors themselves have canceled it.

Tomorrow I will be setting forth on a mission to force him out into the open. Make him join me at the computer. How, I just don’t know

Coming to shore

How hard would it be to chuck it all and go Jack Kerouacing across the country?

Three years ago I moved across the country and my furniture took several weeks to catch up. So my dog and I sat in a spacious two-bedroom apartment, on the plush new Berber carpeted floor. Watching a newly purchased TV, sitting on its own box. I had one plate, one cup, one knife, one spoon, one fork, one pan, one sheet, one blanket and one pillow. I lived.

Was it easy? No.
Did I die without my stuff? No.

Could I do it without all my stuff? It came to me, sitting at my desk at work, lamenting my life path. A path that was shoved, pulled, pushed on me. Convenient for me. Easy for me. Wrong for me.

I choose to change my path. Many people would say, now is not the time to jump ship. With the economy a sea of uncertainty and dry land a far off dream. But how long do you hold on with both hands for your stuff. When do the people, your family becomes more important than that of salary level. I’m sick of chasing the all mighty dollar. I want to find a different way.

So I have given myself a timetable. I have goals that need to be reached in a timely manner. As these goals are realized, reached and time passes. Change is coming.

A word on the end

Light many lamps and gather round his bed.
Lend him your eyes, warm blood and will to live.
but death replied I choose him.

The facts of life.

Fact one:
To be a writer, you must write.
Fact two:
If you are not writing, YOU ARE NOT A WRITER!


I have come to the realization I need a task master to get it done.

Inspiration

Ever wonder were a romance writer gets her inspiration.

To jump off

The cliff.
The drop is far.
Should I jump?
Should I back away?
Or stay, as I have for years, waiting.
Waiting, waiting, waiting.
The time is mine to waste.
When will I learn, whether I jump or not
tomorrow will come. And the next day.
And the next day.

So I leap.
I will let you know what happened.
As soon as I land.

Kira