Gotta admit, I’m feeling pretty smug about my New Year’s resolution this year. My regular readers (shout out to both of you) might remember that this year I did not go with my more predictable ‘eat healthier food,’ ‘lose five pounds,’ ‘reach out to someone far away by phone at least once a week,’ ‘cut back on your wine consumption.’ All, in their way and for various reasons, doomed to fail by March. Not this year!
I resolved to begin my first book for the last time, and further resolved that I would complete the first five chapters in 2021. Well, friends, (again, shout out to both of you) I have written my first five chapters! Granted, they are only twelve double-spaced pages in total, but I did them. Further, I like them. Admittedly each time I read what I have so far I change something ever so slightly, but I feel like I have the beginning of a book I would want to read. In fact, I can’t wait to see what is going to happen next.
Being a somewhat balanced individual, though, (stop laughing, you two!) an alternate reality presents itself. What if it’s shit? What if no one wants to read it? What if it gets shredded in a critique by the writer for the local free coupon flyer? Who in the world would want to represent, let alone publish, a middle-aged plus school teacher with a laptop and a dream left over from her undergrad days? How much more good would this time have done if I’d spent it volunteering at the food bank or advocating for better mental health care options in the state? We’ll never know.
Y’all, I’m writing a book!