Like Fred Flintstone planting his big feet on the ground from the driver's seat of his stone-wheeled car, my latest book plans have come to a screeching halt. WILMA!!!!
It was all going so well, and writing makes me as happy as applying mascara made Tammy Faye Baker. "La-la-la, life is so good. La-la-la, this is so fun.. La-la-la I love this so . . . YIKES! "What do you mean, God? I'm not in charge of my life??? Come on!"
I love my family and friends, but some of them are sucking the life out of me. It seems I'm needed more now than when I had a toddler, an infant, two dogs, company on the way over, and a fire in the kitchen (it was an accident, and I put it out all by myself).
2024 has started with illnesses, tears, and exhaustion, and that's just me. On top of that, as many of you can relate, I'm in the sandwich phase of my life, where people older and younger need my help. I'm suddenly the tuna fish smooshed between the bread.
I've always loved both older and younger people. The two populations have much in common besides wetting their pants and constantly wanting to tell you (the same) stories. Lately, I've been called into duty for old and young, family and friends, with all of them calling me ten times a day requesting assistance, so something had to give. It's one of those times when you really don't mind helping them because you love them and know they'd do the same for you if they could, but really, everyone at the same time? I've been tempted to say, "Take a number, hon, I'll be right with 'ya.
When in doubt, it's good to seek counsel from the wise, and I've found a gem in a literary consultant/advisor/agent/friend who calmed my fears and actually made me see the good in delaying the release of this book. At first, I felt sick, because if I say I'm going to do something, it kills me to let anyone down and go back on my word (does anyone else smell perfectionism?).
I'll take my time, tend to the people I love, save someone from a burning building, rescue a puppy from an icy lake, return the lion to the zoo, push a wheelchair, choreograph the St. Patrick's Day parade, feed the troops, (at least this is what I feel like I’ve done when I climb into bed at the end of every day), and then . . . when all is calm, I'll work on the book and release it when it's God's time, not mine.
Placing people I love ahead of things I love can never be a bad move, right?
I'm predicting an early fall book release, but then again, who am I to make that call? Stay tuned, for more inside glimpses of the glamour of writing a book, and thanks for reading.