Last year I submitted and resubmitted a manuscript to my editor, but it just wasn't working. I set the idea aside in the spring and started a new project that I love. Its completion was slower than I wanted because I picked up a part-time job teaching English at our local community college in the fall. But I managed to complete the first draft of the manuscript by October. My goal was to finish revisions and submit the manuscript by the end of November.
On November 14, however, our daughter Aaliyah was diagnosed with cancer. (I'm sure I'll have plenty to say on that topic in the coming months, but if you'd like to keep up with her story, you can drop in at her CaringBridge page.) Our entire world shifted that day, and it's taken quite a while to find our bearings again.
I've spent nearly 1,000 hours at the hospital in the past three months, and that is not an exaggeration. I calculated the exact number to be around 968 hours - encompassing her initial emergency hospitalization that took us all the way through the end of November (minus one day at home on Thanksgiving), her biweekly inpatient chemo treatments, her regular lab draws and clinic appointments, and last week's major surgery.
1,000 hours. And that's not including all the hours in the car.
That's a lot of thinking time right there, ya'll. (And a lot of praying time and crying time and waiting time.) And every writer knows what happens when you find yourself with an abundance of thinking-praying-crying-waiting time: you start itching to get writing again.
I'm thinking it's time to scratch that itch. Let the writing begin.