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Can you believe it’s almost August? I mean, wasn’t it just Memorial Day? I know time seems to go faster as you get older, but this is kinda ridiculous.
I get to see my writing sisters next week. Woo-hoo! Can’t wait! This year we’re having a plotting party. There’s nothing quite like getting six writers together and brainstorming. All that creative energy unleashed is like the Tasmanian Devil, Wile E Coyote, and Bugs Bunny planning a coup, but in a good way 🙂
So many milestones this year. I now have a 16-year-old with an official driver’s license. Yep, she passed her test the first time. Not sure how I feel about it. On the one hand, we don’t have to shuttle her around anymore. On the other hand, there’s an unease that comes with having a 16-year-old daughter who doesn’t need a parent when driving someplace. She had some rough patches a few years ago; maybe that’s why I’m apprehensive. Or maybe it just comes with the whole 16 and a girl thing. I didn’t feel like this when my son got his license.
Speaking of, my son got his wisdom teeth out (all four at once). And his departure for college is coming up fast–three weeks. Wait. Crap. It is only three weeks until move-in day. Gulp. It’s not the letting go part, it’s the look-at-all-the-stuff-we-have-to-cross-off-our-list part. He’s 18, so he’s (supposed to be) doing a lot of it himself. But you know he’ll wait until the very last minute …
“You finished, love?”
I jump. “Shit!”
“Sorry I scared you.” He grins.
Somehow, I’m not convinced he’s sincere. “Sure, you are.” He drops into a canvas chair on the other side of my writing desk and adjusts his LA Dodgers baseball cap. A faded t-shirt and cargo shorts complete the ensemble. “Going to a game?”
“No. Maybe. It’s almost the end of the month, love. You said you’d send out your manuscript by the end of the month. Last month.”
I roll my eyes. Trust me, I know. “I’ve got to cut another 2500 words. I’m working through it.”
“And your query?”
“Dammit, I know.” I’ve been spending as much time as I can on it, at the expense of my garden, my household chores, my family.
“Whatever possessed you to get that part-time gig at the library, anyway?”
I lean back in my chair and rub my eyes. “I’ve always wanted to work at the library. Books. Shelves of them. But I can’t commit to 10 hours a week. I’m only a sub. I wanted to help the librarian out when my daughter starts tennis season.”
“That’s three hours today and four hours every Monday you could be working on your manuscript, love.”
“I know. And if I didn’t keep revising, I’d have sent it out already. The revisions are good, they need to be done. At least I sent it to a beta reader last night. She reads fast.”
“You won’t hear from her soon enough to matter.”
“Not for this round, but I still need her feedback. And Pitch Wars is next week, before my reunion.”
He shakes his head. “How’d you get so far behind? I’ve been here.”
“I had sinus surgery and was out for over two weeks, remember? And I lost last weekend to a family ‘reunion’, and the weekends before to other family gatherings.”
He stands, buries his hands in the deep pockets of his shorts. “You’re losing today, too. Are you going to be able to do this by the first? I can’t do it for you.”
I’ve got a another family gathering this afternoon. “Gee, if I didn’t have to work full-time, maybe I could just hammer on it all day long.” Some days I really envy my retired writing sisters.
“Ah, the travesties of being a writer,” he says. I know he’s patronizing me. “No one said you had to do this whole writing thing. You could do other stuff, like paint or draw.”
“Do you have any idea how many stories are rattling around in my head? I’ve gotta get them out so more can fill in.” Man, I sound like I’m crazy, hearing voices and stuff.
His slow smile reminds me of Han Solo’s lopsided grin. Or Indiana Jones. Oh, hell, make it Harrison Ford and call it good. “Yes, love. I’m your Muse. I know how many stories are in your head.”
“Then you know I have to write.”
“I know you love writing.” He leans on my desk. “You can’t stop. So get your ass moving so the next story gets attention.”
I can’t wait until next week. Writing Sisters or bust! I’m sure our Muses are planning their own party, especially with a new writer in the group. Wonder what they’ll do?
Enjoy your weekend and keep writing!

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