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.
This is the hardest part- figuring out what to write. I’m not back 100% so for me, writing nonfiction is easier than writing fiction. I am seriously considering turning some of my writer workshops into ebooks as I know they’d be fun and easy for me to do, but at the same time, I want to write fiction again. This is the toughest aspect of writing. When to push and when not to push. *sigh* Continue reading →
I spent the weekend of New Years reorganizing. I also spent time getting my writing in order. It was well spent, but it also reminded me that though I’m normally an organized person, I have spent the past year completely a wreck. Unacceptable any longer. I need to make sure I’m back on track. Which is why when my lovely new planner arrives, I’ll be marking that baby up with pretty markers, pens, and stickers. (Notice the bouncing of glee over here. Just ignore the kid reaction, focus on the organizational skills.) Continue reading →
People often wonder what it is I do since I write so many different things and I love doing various things. There is a phrase my friends and family know. “A bored Cyn is a dangerous Cyn.” This is known as a truism in my house. If I’m bored–things can get deadly or very dangerous. I start getting into trouble. Thus, it’s one reason when it was discovered one of my health issues included my slight manic need to know and that I get slightly obsessed in that phase– things started falling into place. My therapist laughed at me and started assigning me homework on various topics in regards to me getting better to help me understand my own condition. Honestly, it really helped. Strange, but there you go. What it also means is when I research- I tend to over-research because I have this intense need to know everything. Some people think it’s weird, but it makes me a quick “expert” in things which is beneficial when it comes to writing. Continue reading →