This is hilarious to me, because it seems I cannot stop! And I LOVE what Jenny Alexander said–YES, I believe that’s what’s happening here, that my writing is creating me. WOW. It’s just too much fun! God bless you, Sisters–have a great weekend! love, sis Caddo
Funny you should ask. My husband told me a few months ago he didn’t think this “writing thing” was working for him. It takes me away from my other obligations too much. I work a full-time dayjob, care for our autistic teen son, and do my best to share the household obligations.
Rather than yelling at him (which isn’t my style anyway) or quitting (also not me), I realized what he really wanted was more time for “us.” That evening, I brought down a pack of playing cards (we used to play cards a lot before the kids came into our lives) and set them on the kitchen table. A while later I asked him if he wanted to play a game of Rummy. He did. Since then, I’ve been careful to give him attention too, but I cannot ever imagine NOT writing. It’s part of me now, and no matter how long it takes before I get published, I will continue.
We just have to remember that our passion can affect our loved ones–who feel left out from that part of us.
No, I can not stop. I decided that was what makes me self-identify as a writer. If I could stop, then I suppose I’m not really a writer, just someone who can write.
Laurie and Betsy, We’ve exchanged comments back and forth now for awhile (here and on facebook). This week, my daughter received some books from my dad for her birthday. We started reading one of them today. I looked down at the authors’ names and said, “those names sure do look familiar!” The book? “My Dog, My Hero.” She read the first two stories and really enjoyed them! Blessings!
How cool. It’s fun to make connections like that. My Dog My Hero is the first book we wrote together so it has a special place in our hearts. Thanks for sharing.
Writing creates me, not the other way round. I’m not planning to stop!
Yes, God uses many things in our life to mold us into what He wants us to be.
This is hilarious to me, because it seems I cannot stop! And I LOVE what Jenny Alexander said–YES, I believe that’s what’s happening here, that my writing is creating me. WOW. It’s just too much fun! God bless you, Sisters–have a great weekend! love, sis Caddo
It seems once you start, you just can’t stop!! But that’s OK.
Funny you should ask. My husband told me a few months ago he didn’t think this “writing thing” was working for him. It takes me away from my other obligations too much. I work a full-time dayjob, care for our autistic teen son, and do my best to share the household obligations.
Rather than yelling at him (which isn’t my style anyway) or quitting (also not me), I realized what he really wanted was more time for “us.” That evening, I brought down a pack of playing cards (we used to play cards a lot before the kids came into our lives) and set them on the kitchen table. A while later I asked him if he wanted to play a game of Rummy. He did. Since then, I’ve been careful to give him attention too, but I cannot ever imagine NOT writing. It’s part of me now, and no matter how long it takes before I get published, I will continue.
We just have to remember that our passion can affect our loved ones–who feel left out from that part of us.
So wise and perceptive of you – thank you for sharing.
No, I can not stop. I decided that was what makes me self-identify as a writer. If I could stop, then I suppose I’m not really a writer, just someone who can write.
Laurie and Betsy, We’ve exchanged comments back and forth now for awhile (here and on facebook). This week, my daughter received some books from my dad for her birthday. We started reading one of them today. I looked down at the authors’ names and said, “those names sure do look familiar!” The book? “My Dog, My Hero.”
She read the first two stories and really enjoyed them! Blessings!
How cool. It’s fun to make connections like that. My Dog My Hero is the first book we wrote together so it has a special place in our hearts. Thanks for sharing.