Skip to main content

A Sweet Sabbatical

I have a confession to make: I didn't write this summer. Like, not at all.
Seriously, those aren't
the best words coming from a writer.
But, you know what, I'm okay with that.
Why? Because I really couldn't write.
I literally had no will, or want, to write
Okay. Another confession: I did write a poem or two.
But, they were absolute trash.
Which again, I'm okay with. 
No one but me will ever see those.
And now that we're being honest, I have to be even more honest
and say I had the most fun hanging with my kids,
rather than writing. 
Because, it wasn't forced and I didn't have any
deadlines or crazy things I HAD to write.
Nope. None of that. And I liked it.
A summer off. A sabbatical, if you will.
Just me, the kids, the pool and everything
else in between.
What is "in between" you say?
Well here, let me share.

 I went here (thanks Aunt Shelby!):

 I did a lot of this:

Watched a lot of this of my oldest:

Hung out with these two cuties some:

Agreed thoroughly with this statement:

Chilled with Team Spiva:

Did a little of this:

Put up with this sweet one's (my youngest) shenanigans:

Tried not to think how high up I was on this Tahoe gondola:

And now we're doing this (first day of school):

I also read a TON.
So, it's not like I was twiddling my thumbs.
But, it's back to it, I suppose ...
the whole writing thing
and here's hoping I'll have something written worth reading



  1. I'm still going to be a pain about you writing. Breaks are okay, but you're a excellent one.

  2. Thanks Alan. WHY it took me this long to reply is beyond me. It must've been the sabbatical. I forgot everything.

  3. Considering the fact that you posted in August and I responded in November, it probably took Blogger that long to process it. :)

  4. Ha ha ha! You're awfully kind to an old lady like me who has memory problems. ;) Happy Palm Sunday to you.


Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Characters That Work

I’ve heard countless times that agents, when looking for the next great manuscript and readers, looking for the next great read, want compelling characters. But, what does this mean? Compelling? And why have I never thought of characters as compelling when I can’t put the book down? Sure, these characters are amazing, and sometimes I want to be in the middle of the stories as if they were my own experiences. But why? Compelling characters make me --force me-- to be in love with them as they find their way through trials or charge fearlessly down hidden hallways and dark forests. This makes for wonderful literature, and for fascinated readers. But how do we do this? How do authors create compelling characters -- ones that not only we want to read but others too -- and convince our readers that they should care about them? Here’s a tiny list by which I try to strive: Make them human: This is a given. And most writers would tell you this is. Give your character flaws that lots o

Music and Me

So, this post is about music. Why? Because author extraordinaire Alex J. Cavanaugh  is doing a music blogfest. For those who chose to sign up and write about this subject, like me, we get the opportunity to muse about the top ten songs that have inspired us the most over our life. This is a rather subjective and varied blog idea, because sometimes the strangest music can inspire us, or move us, or allow us to remember a time or place or moment or person ... for the rest of our lives! And that is also why it is such a grand idea to make a list of the most inspirational songs: to remember, to pontificate, and think about such like: Wow, that song was awful, but I sure loved it! Warning: This list is going to be majorly filled with eighties music. Why? Again, for the reasons listed above. I was age "ten and up" in the mid-eighties. Talk about an inspirational and impressionable time of anyone's life! Because of that, I feel the eighties were good to me. And I don&

Write This Down

I had a great conversation with a writer-friend of mine this week. She and I have been in a similar predicament for the past few years, in that most of our energy and time has gone into raising our children, and not into the world we so longingly want to delve into: writing. Our kids, of course, and the time we give them is valuable time dedicated. We understand that. We chose to forego our passion of writing for them instead. But, we also discussed why some writers -- as busy as us --were still able to write while raising a family. Did they have extra help? Was their writing so miraculous that their brains just downloaded the stuff onto their computer in mere minutes? What did they do differently? Obviously, many women and men raise their children and manage to write; perhaps even write bestsellers (ahem ... Mrs. Meyers). So what’s the difference between them and us? What was it that made them more productive? It comes down to something very simple: these authors wanted to write