I have learned languages, found lovers and love, failed and succeeded more times than I can count. And through all of that, through the ups and downs, the adventures, experiences, fears and joys, I have always, always been a writer.
I used to wonder how I would react to true tragedy. As a Type A creative with a Gemini star sign and enough anxiety to power the grid at least for a day, I wondered this probably more than I should. But the answer was always the same--I would read my way through. I would write my way out. It turns out, I was right.
I won’t get into the myriad reasons why this is the greatest job in the world, but every once in awhile, it’s necessary to take a step back and get away from the lonely office and misbehaving imaginary friends to regroup and recharge.
Plotters plot and pansters fly by the seat of their pants. I have done both in many genres of writing, including both fiction and nonfiction, and let me tell you–I will never be a pantser.
It’s the think, that they instilled in me, the idea that Christmas isn’t about toys or gifts – it never has been.
There are several reasons I love writing epilogues. Here are just a few.
I don’t have blind faith in myself. I’ve failed and changed course far too many times for that. But I have to believe, have to assume, that I am going to make it. Otherwise, I wouldn’t even try.