Yep. That's where I'm at. Chapter Thirteen. Now, if I can just get it typed in to the computer from the longhand form. It's not really a problem because I got to thinking. I wrote a 60K novel in October and a 50K novel in November. I know I can write the first draft of a story from beginning to conclusion. I've done it twice. So, I'll do it with this one...working title: Enough.
DH and I were driving home the other evening. I noticed how nice it was, kind of intimate, that the two of us were in the car ALONE. I'm not complaining about two 20-year-old children still living at home. I'm not complaining at all. I'm just noticing how nice it is to be just the two of us, in the car, driving down the highway. Cool. This is the way it was before children.
I mentioned something, a complaint he used to have.
"How long has it been since I said that?" he asked.
He was right. It's OK for me not to have a paycheck now. It's OK for me to do what I have to do. And I felt a little more freedom. And maybe a little closer to him than I've felt in a long time because, well, we were trying to get our family through some very difficult financial times. And now...the time I was always striving for, dreaming of, looks like it might be here. DH and I alone in the car, driving down the highway...It felt good.
The more freedom I feel from the things that have tied me down for SO long, the more creative my mind and the more energy I have. I can write this novel and the 97 other ones that I want to write before I die. It all starts now.
Ohhhhhh, runnin' down the highway...ohhhhhhh, runnin' down the highway...I hear the tune with that great traveling music kinda beat.