When writing is your only passion, it's easy to stay focused. It's easy to get excited and lose yourself in the process of creating a story. Life used to be like that for me. Hours of brainstorming, days in pajamas typing page after page, stringing chapters together with no distraction. As much as I hate to admit it, writing is no longer my biggest priority. I still write, but only if I have time, and as sad as that is for me, it's also the way it should be.
I have a new passion now--my son. He is my life, and I wouldn't have it any other way. He comes first, and although I miss the days of burying myself in my books, the moments with him are worth the sacrifice.
Still...I feel guilty. For not writing faster. For not blogger more. For not marketing my books enough to boost sales. For not Tweeting or Facebooking enough. For not reading as much as I used to. For all of it.
I know you probably haven't noticed or cared, but I have...and for that I'm sorry. In writing this, I've realized I need forgiveness from myself more than anything. I need to remind myself that it's okay if things move slowly. It's okay if life takes me by surprise. It's okay to not write every day if that means being with my son. I'm not perfect, and that's okay too :)
Whhheeew. Good to get that out.
Now off to play chase and scatter the living room with toys.