The lighthouse stands alone on the cliff
shining it's light out over the sea.
Through rain, and snow, and monstrous storms
it stands to protect the sailor's fleet.
I have a secret. It's a secret love of lighthouses. The stories they hold inside them, and the mystery that lay deep inside it's heart. You can climb to the top, and on quiet nights, you can hear the moans and cries of those who didn't heed the light's warning, and continued on their path to doom. Looking down you can see the waves tearing at the cliffs, as though they were trying to tear the traitorous lighthouse down from it's peak. The sea claims the lives of those who ignore the warning, and the light stands diligently upon it's perch sending out signal after signal to warn of the danger. It's an on going battle between good, and well, not so good. The sea, she hungers, and she hungers to control all that ride upon her, but the light house never backs down and keeps another feast from the hungry sea's belly. The sea in her anger throws vicious tantrums causing the wind to howl, and the rain to tear at the lone figure on the cliffs, yet the lighthouse holds true, knowing that giving up and dying would only cause those less fortunate to fall into the depths of the sea. The lighthouse sees the dangers, and sends her signal to those travelers who pass her way. She's a lone soldier, doing her duty, sparing the lives of many who float upon the sea's fascinating surface.
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Lost in Time....
It's no secret that I've been searching for something my entire life. I have a very good life, a wonderful loving husband, two smart and beautiful children, a house, a car, a job....what more could I want? Well, ever since I was a youngling, I've felt that something was missing in my life. I've never quite gotten that "complete" feeling. I used to think it was my lack of having caring parents that I missed, but over time I realized that wasn't it.
I feel as though I was born in the wrong time or in the wrong place. I travel extensively because I feel like I'm searching for something. I'm obsessed with Ireland, always have been. I'm obsessed with the East Coast, also. I don't know if it's just a driving desire to SEE these places, or if I have some secret lost connection to these places. After all, Irish are known for their lore and legends. What if I posses some innate sixth sense that is encouraging me to visit these places in order to find inner peace? Perhaps this is why I'm drawn to books about Ireland or the East Coast? Perhaps I'm just a lost soul wandering aimlessly through out time? Perhaps I've had way too much caffeine. :)
Whatever it is, I'm terribly lucky to have a man in my life who supports my adventurous cravings. He's willing to let me drag him from place to place, exploring endless possibilities, and falling in love with my surroundings.
I'd always wanted to see Hawaii, and we were married there! The island itself was surrounded by gorgeous pristine waters, and sea turtles would swim right up to humans. The mountains were topped with low laying clouds, and when the rains came it, it was a truly breathtaking site to see. Watching the waves gently lapping the shores, or crashing angrily against rocks was so mesmerizing to me. Never in my life had I ever imagined seeing something so beautiful, so untouched, so happy, and there I was during one of the happiest days of my life!
We plan on anniversaries being our "vacation" time. Unfortunately, this year it's not possible to travel, as we're working on paying off debts, getting a new car, and saving for a new home. However, for our 5th anniversary, we're hoping to travel back to Hawaii with our children in tow. How lovely would it be for them to see what their parents saw? How incredible the memories will be to see the islands again for the first time through their eyes? It'll be a great way to express our love for one another, and bring our children into our little secret world of wonder and celebrations.
We've got Ireland planned for our 10th or 15th anniversaries. A little research helped us plan that little endeavor. Did you know, that Ireland is very inexpensive? We found a cottage, fully stocked for 150 pounds a week, 3 bedroom, full kitchen, 2 bathroom, on a cliff.....what more could you ask for? Also, it's very close to one of my most desired places in County Clare near Ennis. I can't wait to just go and wake up to the sounds and smells of Ireland. How neat will it be to sit in a pub, and listen to the singers and familiar voices telling tall tales, and sharing life in Ireland? How fun would it be to ride horses along the beach, or brood over the cliffs of Mohr? How exciting will it be to wander through cemeteries and old castles and remains? My heart is beating frantically just THINKING about it.
Funny how my anniversaries are already somewhat planned. It's this adventurous side that leaves me feeling discontent. I'm a daydreamer, and I can't sit still for long periods of time. I ache to Go, Go, Go....and feel the ordinary is so mundane. It's for that reason alone, that I'm ashamed of that rebellious side of myself. I do have so much in my life, and I can't think of that gift from God as mundane. It's a blessing to have what I have, and my heart tells me so. So, even if at times I do feel a little sad for the things I have yet to do, I feel a softer contentment in the things that I have already done. Funny how as we grow, and learn, we also develop a greater sense of what life is about. I guess that is why once we've figured it all out, it's our time to be called to God, so that we don't accidentally leak that information to the younger, less knowledgeable youth, who are still searching for their destiny.
Maybe some day, I'll be able to pen a book. To sit still long enough, to dive into something that I know I truly love, and to feel that sense of contentment grow even more. Perhaps I'll never reach that goal, but in my husband, children, friends and family, will feel that my life was, after all, a complete masterpiece.
I feel as though I was born in the wrong time or in the wrong place. I travel extensively because I feel like I'm searching for something. I'm obsessed with Ireland, always have been. I'm obsessed with the East Coast, also. I don't know if it's just a driving desire to SEE these places, or if I have some secret lost connection to these places. After all, Irish are known for their lore and legends. What if I posses some innate sixth sense that is encouraging me to visit these places in order to find inner peace? Perhaps this is why I'm drawn to books about Ireland or the East Coast? Perhaps I'm just a lost soul wandering aimlessly through out time? Perhaps I've had way too much caffeine. :)
Whatever it is, I'm terribly lucky to have a man in my life who supports my adventurous cravings. He's willing to let me drag him from place to place, exploring endless possibilities, and falling in love with my surroundings.
I'd always wanted to see Hawaii, and we were married there! The island itself was surrounded by gorgeous pristine waters, and sea turtles would swim right up to humans. The mountains were topped with low laying clouds, and when the rains came it, it was a truly breathtaking site to see. Watching the waves gently lapping the shores, or crashing angrily against rocks was so mesmerizing to me. Never in my life had I ever imagined seeing something so beautiful, so untouched, so happy, and there I was during one of the happiest days of my life!
We plan on anniversaries being our "vacation" time. Unfortunately, this year it's not possible to travel, as we're working on paying off debts, getting a new car, and saving for a new home. However, for our 5th anniversary, we're hoping to travel back to Hawaii with our children in tow. How lovely would it be for them to see what their parents saw? How incredible the memories will be to see the islands again for the first time through their eyes? It'll be a great way to express our love for one another, and bring our children into our little secret world of wonder and celebrations.
We've got Ireland planned for our 10th or 15th anniversaries. A little research helped us plan that little endeavor. Did you know, that Ireland is very inexpensive? We found a cottage, fully stocked for 150 pounds a week, 3 bedroom, full kitchen, 2 bathroom, on a cliff.....what more could you ask for? Also, it's very close to one of my most desired places in County Clare near Ennis. I can't wait to just go and wake up to the sounds and smells of Ireland. How neat will it be to sit in a pub, and listen to the singers and familiar voices telling tall tales, and sharing life in Ireland? How fun would it be to ride horses along the beach, or brood over the cliffs of Mohr? How exciting will it be to wander through cemeteries and old castles and remains? My heart is beating frantically just THINKING about it.
Funny how my anniversaries are already somewhat planned. It's this adventurous side that leaves me feeling discontent. I'm a daydreamer, and I can't sit still for long periods of time. I ache to Go, Go, Go....and feel the ordinary is so mundane. It's for that reason alone, that I'm ashamed of that rebellious side of myself. I do have so much in my life, and I can't think of that gift from God as mundane. It's a blessing to have what I have, and my heart tells me so. So, even if at times I do feel a little sad for the things I have yet to do, I feel a softer contentment in the things that I have already done. Funny how as we grow, and learn, we also develop a greater sense of what life is about. I guess that is why once we've figured it all out, it's our time to be called to God, so that we don't accidentally leak that information to the younger, less knowledgeable youth, who are still searching for their destiny.
Maybe some day, I'll be able to pen a book. To sit still long enough, to dive into something that I know I truly love, and to feel that sense of contentment grow even more. Perhaps I'll never reach that goal, but in my husband, children, friends and family, will feel that my life was, after all, a complete masterpiece.
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
What to do....
Logan is my beautiful, blue eyed baby boy...here lately though, he's discovered parts of himself, and I'm not overly sure what to do about that.
The other day, he's walking around the house with his hands in his undies...."Logan, what are you doing?" I say, to which he responds, "I'm playing with my balls." OMG..."Logan, why are you playing with your balls?" "Because, Mommy, There's 2 beans in there." Oh gee...."Logan, those aren't beans, they're your balls, stop playing with them." "But mommy, I like them."
Okay...he likes them. *sigh* I guess in some way, shape or form guys just LOVE to play with themselves. After all, how many times do you see a man constantly jiggling his "junk" in public places? It's a common fact that men just like to touch it, but not my baby boy!!!! I'm at a complete loss as to what to do about all of this, and Brian's response? "It's normal...leave him alone." Okay...it's normal for you because you have them...to me it's gross. I don't want you playing with your package in front of me, and I certainly don't want to see my baby doing it. I am not looking forward to the "exploratory" years. I don't think my innocent sensibilities can handle it. ;)
On another note, Logan is so adorable, (when he's not playing with his "beans"). Every night we read the kids stories before bed. It's my little way of insuring that books will be a part of their lives. Well, Logan loves the Very Hungry Caterpillar. So, he's memorized it! Well, the other night, Logan tells Brian, "No, daddy! I will read it to you!" So, I grab my camera, which has a video camera built in and recorded him "reading" his book! He's so clever, and he gets so excited about everything. Maybe I have a little actor on my hands, who knows? I just know that he's so cute, and I so enjoyed his little reading session! :)
So, my daughter wants to dance. She's so cute, every time music comes on, she's up twirling on her toes. She's the most precious thing I've ever seen. We're currently looking into dance classes for her. Well, this morning, they were showing a commercial for the Russian Ballet doing Sleeping Beauty, and Kylee goes..."OH MOMMY!!! Badderinas!!!" Awwwwww! Logan exclaims from behind her, "Kylee! It's you!" (he's very supportive of his sister's dancing aspirations) So, now I'm wondering if Kylee is too young to be taken to a ballet, maybe I should start smaller, eh? I can not wait until the day I am watching her perform her little recitals. I never got to do that sort of thing, rather, I put on little recitals in my living room for my grandma. :( I miss those days. Grandma was wonderful because she bought me tap shoes, and ballet shoes, even if I wasn't in the actual class. I used to LOVE to tap across her hard wood floors, and even if my "dancing" wasn't exactly structured or good, she always clapped and hugged me and supported me. Now, it's my turn to support my daughter. Even if she decides that dance isn't what she really wants to do, and ice hockey is...I'll enjoy just being there to cheer her on from the sidelines!
I guess in some ways it's okay to live vicariously through your children? We were too poor to afford proper dance instruction, or art lessons, or gymnastics, so we often attempted our own little antics. But I'd like to be able to provide those lessons for my kids, the real lessons.....I think it'll be like a dream come true for me to see my baby girl in a tutu, and to watch my little boy running down a field chasing a ball. :)
The other day, he's walking around the house with his hands in his undies...."Logan, what are you doing?" I say, to which he responds, "I'm playing with my balls." OMG..."Logan, why are you playing with your balls?" "Because, Mommy, There's 2 beans in there." Oh gee...."Logan, those aren't beans, they're your balls, stop playing with them." "But mommy, I like them."
Okay...he likes them. *sigh* I guess in some way, shape or form guys just LOVE to play with themselves. After all, how many times do you see a man constantly jiggling his "junk" in public places? It's a common fact that men just like to touch it, but not my baby boy!!!! I'm at a complete loss as to what to do about all of this, and Brian's response? "It's normal...leave him alone." Okay...it's normal for you because you have them...to me it's gross. I don't want you playing with your package in front of me, and I certainly don't want to see my baby doing it. I am not looking forward to the "exploratory" years. I don't think my innocent sensibilities can handle it. ;)
On another note, Logan is so adorable, (when he's not playing with his "beans"). Every night we read the kids stories before bed. It's my little way of insuring that books will be a part of their lives. Well, Logan loves the Very Hungry Caterpillar. So, he's memorized it! Well, the other night, Logan tells Brian, "No, daddy! I will read it to you!" So, I grab my camera, which has a video camera built in and recorded him "reading" his book! He's so clever, and he gets so excited about everything. Maybe I have a little actor on my hands, who knows? I just know that he's so cute, and I so enjoyed his little reading session! :)
So, my daughter wants to dance. She's so cute, every time music comes on, she's up twirling on her toes. She's the most precious thing I've ever seen. We're currently looking into dance classes for her. Well, this morning, they were showing a commercial for the Russian Ballet doing Sleeping Beauty, and Kylee goes..."OH MOMMY!!! Badderinas!!!" Awwwwww! Logan exclaims from behind her, "Kylee! It's you!" (he's very supportive of his sister's dancing aspirations) So, now I'm wondering if Kylee is too young to be taken to a ballet, maybe I should start smaller, eh? I can not wait until the day I am watching her perform her little recitals. I never got to do that sort of thing, rather, I put on little recitals in my living room for my grandma. :( I miss those days. Grandma was wonderful because she bought me tap shoes, and ballet shoes, even if I wasn't in the actual class. I used to LOVE to tap across her hard wood floors, and even if my "dancing" wasn't exactly structured or good, she always clapped and hugged me and supported me. Now, it's my turn to support my daughter. Even if she decides that dance isn't what she really wants to do, and ice hockey is...I'll enjoy just being there to cheer her on from the sidelines!
I guess in some ways it's okay to live vicariously through your children? We were too poor to afford proper dance instruction, or art lessons, or gymnastics, so we often attempted our own little antics. But I'd like to be able to provide those lessons for my kids, the real lessons.....I think it'll be like a dream come true for me to see my baby girl in a tutu, and to watch my little boy running down a field chasing a ball. :)
Monday, January 29, 2007
New Journey.....and then some
Today I'm starting a new journey. I know it's been done a million times, but this is my own personal milestone. I'm embarking on a new journey to become the person that I want to be, and not just what everyone else wants me to be. I'm seeking the path to a smaller, lighter, me. :) Yes, I know...woohoo...weightloss. Well, for some it's an on again, off again love affair of loving the new you, but hating the "calorie counting" that takes place. For me, it's not so much of that. Okay, so I've done the weight loss boomerang for quite a few years now, but this time, it's not really a weight loss, as much as a "I have to set a good example for my kids." If they see me eating right, they will....right? Logan is beginning to worry me. He's very much on the thin side, yet he's beginning to eat more and more. He's beginning to have 2nd and 3rd helpings of his dinner, and wanting more and more to snack on. Oh, I know the old adage, boys will be boys, but with the rate of childhood obesity in this day and age, it terrifies me that he's eating this way. I make healthy dinners, and he eats well, and gets his fruits and veggies in, but why is he eating SO MUCH!? My daughter is another thing that worries me. Kylee has never been a picky eater, and it really hurts me to hear Brian call her the "fat cheerleader". I was the fat cheerleader, and it's not funny to be called "Chubby" or "Pork chop" or "tubby". :( It hurts MY feelings when people say, "what cute fat children you have!" (Okay, they're NOT fat, and according to their doctor, they are both in the 30 percentile in weight, but chubby cheeks are deceiving.) So, in my efforts to be lighter, I'm hoping to teach my children portion control, and how to balance their hunger cravings with healthier choices.
I'm also beginning a new job next week. One that brings me closer to home, and my children. It is my hopes that I will be able to get my children involved in activities. My sister is a member of the YMCA, and I'm so looking forward to getting Logan involved in Soccer this summer. He is really into running, and balls, so I think this will fit his little hearts desire. As for my pretty ballerina...she wants to dance! She really liked watching the tap dancers on TV with me the other day, and she LOVES seeing ballet dancers and ice skaters. It is my hopes to get them both involved in what they love. This new job will help with that, as it's only 15 minutes from my home, and gives me time to be there for my kids.
I always thought I could be the "commuter" mom. The one that didn't mind working so far from home because the money was worth it. But, when I realized that I was not only not involved in my children's lives, but totally grumpy and mean by the time I got home from slaying the traffic demons, I knew it was time for a change. A change that would put me as mom again, and not as monster lady who was too tired to play with her kids. It makes me proud to be a mom, and my kids are my life, but when my career started superseding that, it was time to move on. So, hopefully this new journey is a blessing, and hopefully my children will know that their mommy loves them dearly, and wants to be with them, as a mother, not as an enemy.
I'm also beginning a new job next week. One that brings me closer to home, and my children. It is my hopes that I will be able to get my children involved in activities. My sister is a member of the YMCA, and I'm so looking forward to getting Logan involved in Soccer this summer. He is really into running, and balls, so I think this will fit his little hearts desire. As for my pretty ballerina...she wants to dance! She really liked watching the tap dancers on TV with me the other day, and she LOVES seeing ballet dancers and ice skaters. It is my hopes to get them both involved in what they love. This new job will help with that, as it's only 15 minutes from my home, and gives me time to be there for my kids.
I always thought I could be the "commuter" mom. The one that didn't mind working so far from home because the money was worth it. But, when I realized that I was not only not involved in my children's lives, but totally grumpy and mean by the time I got home from slaying the traffic demons, I knew it was time for a change. A change that would put me as mom again, and not as monster lady who was too tired to play with her kids. It makes me proud to be a mom, and my kids are my life, but when my career started superseding that, it was time to move on. So, hopefully this new journey is a blessing, and hopefully my children will know that their mommy loves them dearly, and wants to be with them, as a mother, not as an enemy.
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Being me....
Discovering Me.....
We are brought into this world screaming and cold after just being removed from a nice warm, safe place. We are handed to our mother, who in turn probably thinks to herself that this slimy creature just came from inside her, and stares in wonderment upon our now squishy faces. From this point on we are someone's child. We belong to someone who is supposed to care for us, love us, feed us, clothe us, and nurture us into normal, successful adults.
Somewhere between the birth canal and adulthood we change at least a hundred different times, morphing into something we think we are. Through our lives, we seek to find our inner selves, and fear what it is that we will someday find.
For quite some time I quashed my true self behind many facades of rousing young adulthood, party going, and prancing around in mini skirts and tons of makeup. I spent so much time dutifully stuffing the real me behind a series of masks, one for the teachers who saw a promising young professional to give credit to their teachings, one for my parents who saw a slightly rebellious yet upstanding daughter who worked hard and took care of herself, and one for my friends who saw the happy-go-lucky bouncy girl who had no secrets nor a care in the world. I spent a lot of my time spitting into the wind only to have it come back into my face.
At some point I threw up my hands in dispair and gave into the me that was screaming to become a person in the world, and show herself to all who can see. She escaped like a new born child, squaling and cold, but took a firm grip and held on tight. She became a wife, a mother, a friend, in a whole new sense. She showed herself to her family, her friends, and found that some wouldn't always be there or like the person she'd become. Yet, even with her losses, she found inner strength, and love of people who became closer to the real her, rather than the actress she'd been. Somehow, it was liberating, and somehow it was freightening to face the future in a new skin.
Time Tip-Toes Along...
Closing my eyes I can hear all that is going on around me. My senses seem to become stronger in order to make up for the lack of sight. Perhaps that is why I dream so vividly. My eyes are closed and my brain creates images and ideas that only I can see, only I can hear. I can see characters, and their hopes and dreams come to life inside of me. I feel their joy, hopes, pain, and longings. I can hear them telling me to let them belong, let them become real, and my mind begins to see their lives, the way they would appear to the average imagination. I want so badly to bring them to life, and yet a part of me is afraid to let them become. A million "what ifs" run through my head, pinning me helplessly in a state of silent fear. I protect them like invalid children, yet they continue to fight against me to become as real to others as they are to me.
We are brought into this world screaming and cold after just being removed from a nice warm, safe place. We are handed to our mother, who in turn probably thinks to herself that this slimy creature just came from inside her, and stares in wonderment upon our now squishy faces. From this point on we are someone's child. We belong to someone who is supposed to care for us, love us, feed us, clothe us, and nurture us into normal, successful adults.
Somewhere between the birth canal and adulthood we change at least a hundred different times, morphing into something we think we are. Through our lives, we seek to find our inner selves, and fear what it is that we will someday find.
For quite some time I quashed my true self behind many facades of rousing young adulthood, party going, and prancing around in mini skirts and tons of makeup. I spent so much time dutifully stuffing the real me behind a series of masks, one for the teachers who saw a promising young professional to give credit to their teachings, one for my parents who saw a slightly rebellious yet upstanding daughter who worked hard and took care of herself, and one for my friends who saw the happy-go-lucky bouncy girl who had no secrets nor a care in the world. I spent a lot of my time spitting into the wind only to have it come back into my face.
At some point I threw up my hands in dispair and gave into the me that was screaming to become a person in the world, and show herself to all who can see. She escaped like a new born child, squaling and cold, but took a firm grip and held on tight. She became a wife, a mother, a friend, in a whole new sense. She showed herself to her family, her friends, and found that some wouldn't always be there or like the person she'd become. Yet, even with her losses, she found inner strength, and love of people who became closer to the real her, rather than the actress she'd been. Somehow, it was liberating, and somehow it was freightening to face the future in a new skin.
Time Tip-Toes Along...
Closing my eyes I can hear all that is going on around me. My senses seem to become stronger in order to make up for the lack of sight. Perhaps that is why I dream so vividly. My eyes are closed and my brain creates images and ideas that only I can see, only I can hear. I can see characters, and their hopes and dreams come to life inside of me. I feel their joy, hopes, pain, and longings. I can hear them telling me to let them belong, let them become real, and my mind begins to see their lives, the way they would appear to the average imagination. I want so badly to bring them to life, and yet a part of me is afraid to let them become. A million "what ifs" run through my head, pinning me helplessly in a state of silent fear. I protect them like invalid children, yet they continue to fight against me to become as real to others as they are to me.
Sometimes....
I'm a big dreamer. More often than not, I have my head lingering in the clouds, lost in a dream world only I can understand. One of my passions is writing. I have wanted to write a book since I was 10 and discovered a whole new world created in the art of romance novels. Yes, 10 was a bit young to be introduced to Harlequin, yet I had read all of the "younger" books and they bored me to tears, and I needed something new, and craved more and more. My first attempt at writing was a horrendously written "novella" about a young girl falling in love with an American Indian in the early 1800's. Okay...so obviously I needed more experience under my belt, it's true that a 12 year old girl, no matter how worldy she believes herself to be, knows anything about the mental and physical attraction between man and woman. My next attempt at writing was a more complicated story of young love, and the highly overrated "first time". At the tender age of 16, I felt I had it all figured out, yet I still didn't posess enough actual knowledge to write something believable to the average reader. No matter how much research I did, or how much I thought I gained in reading myself, I hadn't quite reached the point where I could actually tell a story and know the drama and heartbreak, as well as the adult humor was being received well by the reader.
I am now 27 years old, and the things I have lived through, and discovered over the years makes me feel more confident that I can write something and honestly have a reader think to themselves, "hey, been there sister." I've discovered the miracle of birth, as well as the lovely contractions that acompany it. I've lived through an abusive situation, and came out on top. I've felt young love, lust, and real true love. I've been married, been through a divorce, and been married again. I've traveled to wonderful places, and seen amazing things, and lived through the sadness of 9/11. I'm at a point where I feel that I can now sit down and focus on a story that not only relates to humans, but that will reach people and make them feel sorrow, laughter, joy, pain, and love. So, now I'm faced with just what do I write about? A very good friend of mine says, "Just sit and write...let it flow out of you." I'm too flighty, I need a goal, and I haven't quite figured out how that goal should be accomplished. It's funny how I can sit here and "just write" a blog, and it makes sense and it sounds good, yet I can sit for hours in front of my computer with a story in mind and I'm lucky to get chapter one written. Maybe I'm too hard on myself and constantly sit there thinking, no, that sounds stupid.......DELETE.
One step at a time. I must now make a goal to START a book. We'll proceed from there. I'll keep you posted. :)
I am now 27 years old, and the things I have lived through, and discovered over the years makes me feel more confident that I can write something and honestly have a reader think to themselves, "hey, been there sister." I've discovered the miracle of birth, as well as the lovely contractions that acompany it. I've lived through an abusive situation, and came out on top. I've felt young love, lust, and real true love. I've been married, been through a divorce, and been married again. I've traveled to wonderful places, and seen amazing things, and lived through the sadness of 9/11. I'm at a point where I feel that I can now sit down and focus on a story that not only relates to humans, but that will reach people and make them feel sorrow, laughter, joy, pain, and love. So, now I'm faced with just what do I write about? A very good friend of mine says, "Just sit and write...let it flow out of you." I'm too flighty, I need a goal, and I haven't quite figured out how that goal should be accomplished. It's funny how I can sit here and "just write" a blog, and it makes sense and it sounds good, yet I can sit for hours in front of my computer with a story in mind and I'm lucky to get chapter one written. Maybe I'm too hard on myself and constantly sit there thinking, no, that sounds stupid.......DELETE.
One step at a time. I must now make a goal to START a book. We'll proceed from there. I'll keep you posted. :)
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