Words: 1151
Time to read: 6 minutes

I think you all know I’m on a break. A “break.” I’ve said before after each release that I’m going to take a break. Refill my creative well like everyone likes to say. Rest. Recuperate. Reflect. I say it, and it lasts maybe a day before I’m back writing or editing another book.

Not this time. I’m holding true and actually…. reading. Watching a show on Netflix.

It’s weird. Quiet. Not all together pleasant.

The shadows of the urgency are still there. On Tuesday night I had my ex-husband and my sister over for dinner. Knee-jerk reaction to be annoyed my evening was gone, but then I had to remind myself that I’m not writing. Not editing. Not plotting. My sister stayed and we played Life with my daughter on her Switch. We played two games and my sister asked if we were going to play another. It was about 8:00pm. Everyone is used to me ending an evening before it practically starts and they fully expected me to say “No, I’m done.” I surprised everyone by saying, “Yeah, one more game.” Because…. I’m not writing. Not anxiously waiting to get back behind my keyboard to write another 1,000 words before bed.

Next week we’re going to a town forty-five minutes away to poke around and that night my sister and I are going to see Deadpool. A whole day, gone. Again, a knee-jerk reaction to be annoyed but I didn’t even have to remind myself I’m not writing to shake it off. Because, as surprising as it may be to you and to me, I want to do those things.

So I’m in this odd between space where I’m still blogging, still scrolling Threads for book news, still making graphics in Canva for what little marketing I do, but not writing or editing. Give & Take is scheduled to be a in a promotion soon, so this weekend I have to make graphics and write up a draft for my newsletter/blog. I did the cover for the next book I’m going to work on. It’s not set in stone–my covers go through a lot of changes before I hit upon the one I like best–but I like looking at it.

I don’t think it’s all because I’m feeling better or that I’m in the stages of acceptance that this is how I’m going to feel and there’s nothing more that can be done. It’s a big part of it, for sure, because I’ve said many times that I used writing and publishing to hide from how I felt. Not drinking much anymore helps, limiting myself to only two or three drinks a month. I broke that cycle and I’m feeling calmer and more serene than I have in a long time. Perhaps it’s a stepping back and wondering what I want from writing, because at this point I’m not sure what it’s given me or if I want to keep it.

I mean, I’m grateful it was there to hide behind. I don’t think anyone would resent a safety net. Writing, publishing, and the writing community gave me a place to go when the people in my life were tired of putting up with how I felt and how it affected me. (And I’m not stupid or naïve–I know I annoyed a lot of people not feeling well for so long.) I made a lot of friends, lost a lot of friends, too. I love helping people do their covers and edit and format for authors who are in a pinch. But I turned writing and publishing into kind of a conveyor belt of content, and only because I wasn’t feeling well enough to enjoy the product I was creating. I wrote fabulous stories, and I’m proud of all of them, but I didn’t savor them like I could have. And in saying that, I wonder how much better they could have been if I had. I don’t think I’m the only one who sometimes feels this way about their books. Indie publishing has turned into a rat race of content, not just for me. Like a shark that will drown if it can’t keep moving, indie publishing feels the same. If you can’t keep producing, you’ll sink, and that kind of thought, that kind of knowledge, that kind of fact, can wear you down fast.

I edited my King’s Crossing series while I was getting treatment, so I’m not sure how much better they are, or if the quality didn’t change. I won’t know if I don’t go back and reread some of the things I’ve written before, but I’m not too eager to do that. I recently re-edited my reader magnet and besides some typos and a small timeline inconsistency I doubt anyone noticed, I thought it sounded good. One of my best pieces, if I’m honest, because I shoved a lot of my misery into those characters. Maybe all my books are like that. That instead of my pain preventing me from creating amazing stories, it did the opposite and helped me create characters just as wounded as I was. If that’s the case though, I wonder how writing will be going forward. I mean, I’m not cured. I have the potential to feel worse as time goes on because endometriosis grows and maybe one day I’ll need another surgery to remove it, but for now, I’m feeling better, physically and mentally, than I have in years.

I suppose in the next few months I’ll be feeling my way around. I don’t want to be obsessed about writing anymore, but it does feel strange to have free time. I know finding a balance in all things will be easier said than done, but I fully plan to enjoy the next few months. Fall has always been my favorite time of the year and this year I’ll actually be able to appreciate the cooler temperatures and the leaves turning.

Anyway, I just wanted to share with you. I’m no longer struggling, not feeling like I’m drowning at least, more like treading water and realizing that I can stay afloat. I haven’t been able to enjoy anything for so long, and the simple fact that I can now leaves me reeling at times.

I hope you too, are able to find some enjoyment in your writing and publishing. I know I’m not the only one dealing with issues, mental or physical, but finding joy, no matter how small an amount, is imperative if you want to keep going and not burn out.

September will soon be upon us, and we’ll have only four months left of the year. Appreciate that time because it will move swiftly. Fall is in the air, a hint of woodsmoke and rain. Sip and savor. That will be my motto for the coming months. Wine, life, writing. I hope you can, too.

Until next time!