It’s been a couple years since I had a book published. Big Girl Pill came out in December of 2019. I was so proud of it. It was my first foray away from the world of Cops and Docs but it still had the humor, sass, heat and the sense of family I seem to have fallen in love with.
Not to long afterward, I pushed forward and started all gung ho on A New Kind of Drug. A sequel of sorts but not really because it’s all about Rachel and how she lives life.
Then COVID hit…HARD.
Before I knew what was happening one of the individuals I thought was invincible was gone. I mean, she beat a very invasive form of breast cancer not once but twice. Not only that, when the autoimmune disease she’d been struggling with for years perpetuated the flare ups of all flare ups and almost took her lungs out. She said, “No thank you. I got this.”
So after Xanax, a couple anti-depressants and a good therapist, I thought I was ready to write again. I really thought I was…to a point. When I got to that point, I hit a brick wall.
I engaged in more therapy, played video games, watched Geek TV and even had a preventative mastectomy. All during that I was on social media too. I read about all the authors, some I knew and some I didn’t, coming out with new books. Showing off book covers and tossing out blurbs.
The reader in me was ecstatic! Surely some of those books would end up in audiobook format, which seems to be my thang nowadays.
The writer in me?
She was sad. She was angry. She even screamed at me at times telling me to get it together.
What was wrong with me? I had a story to tell. Why couldn’t I tell it?
The answer is I don’t know. Writer’s block can be soft like a pillow and all you have to do is squeeze a little bit to get it back to a certain level of comfort. It can also be like fucking titanium. The only thing that makes it brittle is oxygen.
It’s a weird way of saying I needed some air.
At the moment, I feel like I’m working my way back slowly but surely. However, my confidence is shaken. I worry. Am I too far removed from WLW fiction? Have readers forgotten about me?
These are valid questions but I don’t know the answers to them. All I can do put words on the page when I have the time and the inspiration strikes. My goal is to finish this book by the end of the year and hope there are more stories locked in my head, waiting to be told.