New Year, Same Me, Sitting In The Same Chair. Go Away.

We human beans love the idea of a fresh start, don’t we? Trading in the old for a better version of ourselves? We’re all about it. Each new year, each new Sunday, each new diet, new relationship, new pair of shoes. It *could* change everything about us.


This year, I’m about sitting still. Last year was frantic and scary. It was meant to be. I wanted to be brave and bold and out there. It was exciting, but also bewildering and intimidating. Both with my writing and our family business, and with personal and relationship evolutions.


I got published quite a bit, which is flattering and encouraging, but also a whole hella lot of stranger danger. Putting my thoughts out there to the world, full of nice folks and trolls, is really intimidating. I want it to be impactful! But I don’t want anyone to share any thoughts about it, because they might not be glowing. I want it to last! But I want to be able to disappear. I want people to know me by my words and ideas! But I want to do it from the shadows, wearing sunglasses and a fake mustache and using the pen name, Lady Orange Marmalade.

This year, I’m thinking I want to quietly learn more, grow as a writer, but stop trying to so aggressively push. At least that’s my plan today. I’m taking online writing classes, and I’m reading a lot. I’m going to get back to blogging more often, and stop trying to submit so much to be published out into the actual world. Waiting for an editor to get back to you feels like waiting for a boy to call in high school. Rejection and acceptance both cause emotional turmoil. Then, there’s editing and negotiating payment and waiting, waiting, waiting to see it published and to see the response (DO THEY LIKE ME??). It’s stressful.


I don’t want stress just at this moment. I’m hibernating in my house all winter, enjoying my kids, enjoying more time with my Robb, now that the ice cream business is a little less chaotic than the summer months.

I’m doing yoga. I’m drinking tea. For Christmas, I got Santa slippers, which I vow to wear year-round, and a warming pad for around my neck, that plugs in to the wall. So, sorry, I’m stuck in this chair, tethered to the wall, where my comfy blanket and book are. Bummer. Go away.

That’s where I am today. Enjoying what I got, seeking peace instead of frantic progress.


However, if you, stranger, are a literary agent, and you simply must get my manuscript by Friday, inquire within.




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