To paraphrase John Lennon, “Life is something that happens when you’re busy making other plans”.  At least I think that’s who said it and approximately what was said.  I’m a little nervous World and it tends to make me sarcastic, well, that and breathing. 

The interesting question is: why pray tell am I nervous?  For one thing there are scads of blogs in the universe.  For another I’m pretty sure that only a couple of my dearest friends will read my inaugural post.  So nerves?  I guess it’s that whole putting yourself out there thing.  It’s why our knees shake during speeches (and honestly, that “picture them in their underwear” trick sometimes leads to disastrous results.).  It’s why our palms get moist when we tell someone we really like, like them (what if they don’t say it back?).  Heck, when we go out in a bathing suit after a long winter. ( I’ve just realized that with that last one I have veered off into the Chick Lit zone.  Men, bless them, just put on the suit and let it all hang out, yes I said all.)

Where was I?  Oh, right.  John Lennon.  So, the other night I had some time and I sat down and started a book.  I had this story rattling around in my head for a while and finally I had some time and started to write it down.  One thing lead to another and before you know it I’ve got maps and genealogies and chapters.  It started really looking like a book- go figure.  Then a funny thing happened on the way to the publisher- LIFE

I met this wonderful boy, okay he’s a man now but he started out as my boy.  Meeting a wonderful boy was not in and of itself a strange happenstance.  Have you met me?  Yeah, social.  And I have always been in favor of the male species.  They’re decorative, handy around the house and fun to play with.  However, in my grand life plan I certainly was never going to keep one!  Perish the thought.  Marriage, I thought was not my bag baby.  (Hmmm, from John Lennon to Austin Powers, interesting the way the brain works.)  Then I met Eric and he was most adorable.  Somehow I ended up marrying him.  I even changed my name (except with writing), don’t get me started on that one- it’s for another day. 

So I think okay, I’ve gone and made an honest man out of him but rugrats?  Pl-lease.  As if.  Definitely not.  Skip ahead three kids and I’m a stay at home mom in the ‘burbs.  Say what?  And, circling back around to Lennon, when I say “the other night” I actually mean eighteen years went past and no book was completed.   It didn’t seem like eighteen years though.

Oh I did a lot of other great things; my marriage and my three kids are definitely the ones I’m most proud of.  I ran a successful direct sales business for eleven years with 200 women under me.  I volunteered, supported worthy causes, kept running, kept reading and kept having fun.  In short I have had a wonderful life.  But something was always missing, just off stage, in the back of my mind, singing its siren song.

I turned forty-one last June.  Somehow that one bothered me more than forty did.  Now I’m not just forty; I’m in my forties.  There seemed to me to be a critical distinction between the two states of being.  And as it has hit greater minds before me, the thought came crashing down.  When do we get to be the thing we always dreamed of being “when we grow up”?  Despite my best efforts to the contrary I have to ‘fess up- by many standards of the definition I am a grown up.  Ooops.  So, the question remained: if not now, then when?

So my fabulous spouse and I sat down.  We had a talk.  (Did I mention his innate adorableness?  I did?  Good.  It’s fairly important.)  We tried to figure out if now was The Time.  We decided that it was.  The kids are in school full-time.  Eric’s career is progressing well.  And where once my business had been a good thing, now it was affecting the happy familial relationships in our house.  I was gone a lot at night.  With Eric’s rigorous travel schedule (he’s gone a LOT) this meant that when he was home, I tended to be out working.  Not good for the marriage.  Also, the kids need me at night for homework, kisses, dinner around the table together, that sort of thing.  They need someone holding down the home front.  Writing holds the benefit of turning off the computer at 3pm when they come home.   My business didn’t allow that.  Now, on the flip side my business paid… well.  There are no guarantees that writing would pay… ever.  There are plenty of impoverished writers in the world.  Eric, bless him, has faith in me.  He said it was time for me to write, get published and sell mucho copies so that he can retire and fish.

That brings us up to the current time.  I recently finished my book.  It’s called “Spells of a Mortal’s Weaving” and it’s book one of three.  I’ve started book two.  I have some dear friends reading “Spells” and giving me feedback.  My big project now is educating myself on publishing, specifically how can I get published???  It’s a huge project.  I’ve been trying to reach out, get up to speed, learn, whatever I can do to bring this to fruition.  I’ve been getting a ton of advice (it doesn’t always agree, lots of conflicting tidbits!).  One thing EVERYONE and their grandma said was… start a blog.  So, me being a list kind of girl I dutifully wrote down 1.) Start a Blog.  And here we are.

I can’t promise how often I’ll post… or how interesting I’ll be.  I can say I’ll probably be all over the map, similar to my conversational style.  (It can get nutty.)  I would like to post some excerpts from my past stories, poetry and my current work.  Hopefully people will like it or have feedback for me.  Or advice.  Advice is good.  Help.  Help is good too.

Start blog- check.  Hey buddy, you wanna buy a book?

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