I love buying things at a thrift store and fixing them up.  On Dia De Los Muertos here in San Antonio, I took barbies bought at thrift stores and named them “second life” Barbies with head wreaths and sugar skull masks.  Second Life BarbiesThey were a best seller.  It was fun, because as a little girl, I didn’t have barbies, they were too expensive. Just like my obsession with Hello Kitty items stemmed from my love of it as a child (and inability to afford such expensive imports), it’s great to repurpose something to sell with a new life for kids who are a little like me.

There is something else I’m having to repurpose, though, and something that is much harder to clean, bring back to life with a new sheen of paint, a dress, and some colored ribbon: my writing.

I stopped writing a little after my Hobbit died.  He was my editor, my muse, my cheerleader and my biggest fan.  It was very hard to go on without any of that.   When I remarried, I thought I might get that all back, but though my new husband is a reader, he’s not my muse, not a very good cheerleader, and I don’t think he even likes my writing.  He’s a super protective alpha male sort, like Sam, but I’ll be shocked if he even ever reads this.

But…

My writing career, my skills as a writer, is no one else’s responsibility.

When I moved to San Antonio, I started working for myself.  It’s never a very reliable or a very steady stream of income, but it does allow me to set my own hours.  I’ve vacillated and put off trying to edit my own manuscripts.  It’s still very painful to look at these stories and remember how much I miss Sam, my Hobbit.  Maybe writing again is a process in healing.  Maybe the reason I hate my life, is I’m denying a huge part of my life by not writing.  Perhaps it is just as simple as not liking myself if I’m not a writer, because I AM a writer.

In any case… I’ve engaged a writing coach and here I am, Monday, writing for my daily exercises.  I start going over manuscripts in January.  They may have rewrites and then it’s time for selling myself as an author.  That means this blog had better be active, right?

Write.