Wow, I can't believe it's September already! I have been writing as much as I can, but August was an exceptionally busy month for me family wise. My niece was born on the 10th. :) I've been helping my sister with her new baby, and she's helping me with my kids since I still can't walk on my broken foot yet. It's working out nicely--we make a good team. My blog went by the wayside, but part of that is because I had to wrestle the laptop from my daughter while she was still on summer break, lol. She's so addicted to Club Penguin!
I'm really happy to be a member of this group, the Insecure Writer's Support Group, because not only does it allow me to meet new people and get to know the people I've already met, but also because it gives me accountability. I don't slack off on my writing like I used to. I think to myself, damn, I can really do this! I also appreciate learning more about self-publishing. I always thought I'd go the traditional publishing route as I was growing up, but now there are more opportunities out there to follow my dream. The best and most stressed piece of advice I have read from multiple authors is edit, edit, edit. I couldn't agree more! I'm gonna edit my butt off. First, I need an entire first draft done. One day at a time, right? :)
The other day, my sister reminded me of the first "book" I had written when we were on spring break from school one year. I was eleven, and she was six. For five days straight, I wrote a book called Seven Friends which really had no plot, lol. It was basically me daydreaming about what I wanted my life to be like when I grew up and the happiness I hoped my friends to have. I wish I still had it, but shortly after I wrote it, I lost it! It was 140 pages of notebook paper. Loose leaf. Written in pencil. Really wish I still had it; my daughter would love to have read that! :D
I'd like to post the very first paragraph of my book that I have so far if y'all don't mind. :)
Lightning struck our house the day my mom died. By that time she was in a coma, lying in a hospital bed in our living room. I had long ago begun sleeping on the couch in there with her, keeping vigil over her at night. The soft swoosh swoosh of the oxygen tank breathing for her should have lulled me to sleep at night, but I was terrified to sleep. My racing pulse and overwhelmed mind would not have allowed it anyway. Most nights I just dozed off and on, awakening from troubled dreams. I just knew that I didn't want her to die alone. I had just turned fourteen.
Okay, I really really want to know what all of you think, your honest thoughts. Don't worry about me--I can take it! lol
After I write and publish my memoir, I want to write fiction. It's weird though because writing fiction scares me more than writing a memoir. Shouldn't it be the other way around?
Thanks so much for stopping by! My goal is to meet ten new people and catch up with my friends on their posts. Happy IWSG day everyone! <3