There are times in your life when you realise you begin again. For me, I’m reviewing my recent books I’ve written and ones almost done. But moreso, I’ve learned more about myself in the past year. Last year, my health was the end all be all. It’s still important. Yet, I discovered there are things in my life that mean so much to me beyond these walls. I’ve become more active as an activist.
Many people will say it’s due to one person, but those who know me…know I hit my limit. The election was the last straw. I’ve also been very very lucky in my life to meet people whom are likeminded. More, they have been kind enough to include me. They’re a new family within my family and when Harvey hit Houston, together we worked to save lives-human and animal alike. Again, they were at my side with Irma, urging me to safety. They brought back part of me I hadn’t realised was missing.
What does this mean? It means I’m writing. Deeper stories. More romance elements but stories that truly hit the soul and heart. They bite into what makes us who we are and how we deal with each part of our lives. Genre? Oh, I’m still not limiting myself! Why bother doing that? But for the first time ever, I found not just a peace, but a need to write again.
Scary how being blind in one way opens you to something so much more powerful than yourself. I was blind. Thought I’d end up not writing. But this new fam, just like my writing fam, believes in me. More, as they discovered me as an author, they had already embraced me as me. It was freeing. I can’t explain how it’s different, but I can tell you…each day is now filled with potential.
So, I write. I post on Patreon. My activism is on Twitter, separate from my author stuff. Yet, it’s all me. And…even though my hometown suffers right now, I found a peace inside, a hunger to write.