I have been writing for over 25 years. People who can’t find me in Barnes and Noble don’t get that…but other writers do.
Since I was fifteen years old I have been working part or full time. From my sophomore year in high school until my first child was born I worked in many industries ranging from retail, to office work, to manufacturing. None of them were rewarding, they just paid the bills. (Not very well, but that’s a chapter in my memoir…)
Thankfully, I was able to take a few precious years off to be a full time mom.
Yeah, I know, that’s “working.”
My spouse (at the time) didn’t get that.
He didn’t consider writing “working” either.
He didn’t consider anything “working” that didn’t bring home a paycheck.
I put up with this for nearly 20 years…and then it was back to the menial work force for me, although this go-around seemed much more degrading than the first. Perhaps because I was well into my forties when I knew that I no longer had “all the time in the world” to get it right.
There was no time to write during this time either. Three kids in three different schools for a time, full time work and then some left no little time for anything except making sure the bills got paid.
Then something happened. Or I should say someone.
We entered each other’s lives at a time when we both should have said no, but we didn’t. I had spent several years after my divorce saying no to everything…and this person finally let me say yes.
Yes to quitting a job I hated…yes to writing til my hearts content.
Although, I still find it hard to call myself a writer when asked, “What do you do?”
Because the next question is, “Wow, do you make a lot of money?” Or, “Would I know anything?”
Yeah, Google me!!
It’s much to call myself a senior caregiver, which I have been successfully doing and enjoying for eight years. I never had any luck with men until I met a bunch of old ones…
And I still write. I am writing more than ever.
And you know what?
The best is yet to come…