I have blogger's block. Or rather, the blogger in me isn't sure what she is doing right now.
For years, decades even, I have been talking about how I was going to grow up to become a novelist.
I was eight when I made that decision, and 18 when I realized I was going to need something that paid the bills. So rationally, I signed up as a Communications major in college and specialized in Journalism. This was a smart move, I figured. I'd hone my craft, impress my editors, get my name out there, and publish the novel I'd write into the wee hours of each morning in no time. But then...
I was too tired to write when I got home.
I got married.
Dealt with infertility.
Had a baby.
Hated my job.
Quit my job.
Lost my father.
Moved 2,000 miles to start a brand new life.
And then I woke up one day and decided I wanted to try and make that dream come true again.
So here I am. And I'm not sure where to start.