Writing novels… writing stories… it’s sharing the way our own soul is connected to the world around us, the world beyond us, through our own words, voice and story.
Writing, for me, is breathing. It’s living. It’s my way to contribute to our human society, by writing stories that will make the reader feel all kinds of emotions, and discover all sorts of things.
Writing is my way (the best way) to share my endless admiration for the wonderful beauties surrounding us, or for what makes our fragile lives precious.
Instinctively, when I first started working retail, to thrive among sometimes interesting sometimes not-always-nice humans and survive through the amount of pure pollution and waste produced in one day only, in one store only, I disconnected my soul, and my heart.
When I first got out of the retail microcosm, I was relieved and certain of one thing only: never again would I spend hours of my life in a store doing chores in an endless loop.
Never again would I voluntarily trap myself in a mindless, useless, job.
And yet.
Mama’s got to do what needs to be done to make sure the kiddos have all they need while helping Santa bring presents on Christmas.
Feeding the imagination through the void growing inside my writer’s heart is a challenge.
A challenge I got through before. That I’m going through now.
As for my NaNoWriMo stats… let’s say I wasn’t planning to win, and I won’t!