1995

Sitting at my desk, the strumming on a guitar floats into my office. A smile spreads across my face as peace swells inside me. How can you ever stay tense when the gentle strands of music fill your soul.

Until you hear the cry, "Mom! The Internet sucks!"

Shattered. Good thing I tried to be creative while everyone was at the store this morning.

A good friend called. We haven't spoken in several months - she lives far away and we haven't even seen each other in years. But she's the kind of person who will always close to me.

Speaking with Rose conjured up many memories of the life our families shared together. The beach, the pool, the parties, laughter, tears, skinned knees and fake nails. You can't forget a relationship like that.

It was during the 'Rose Era' that I began writing. It was during one summer that I sat at my computer after the boys went to bed, and wrote. My husband traveled so I gobbled up the time he was gone to write and write and write. I finished my first book in two weeks. That was back in 1995, a year that changed my life.

HA! I laugh and scoff at it now. But then I was ignorant and didn't know any better. Back then, I was somehow wise enough to attend my first ever writer's conference (SCBWI) and that changed my life. That first conference - completely intimidating, overwhelming, nerve-wracking. Too nervous to speak with anyone, I played sponge and soaked up every nuance I could until I was over-saturated. My newly acquired knowledge oozed into my story. Then I attended another conference. And another. Each time learning more and more, improving my abilities, becoming more professional, creating a better story.

I'm on the fifth reiteration of the same novel I began in 1995 and am still only about two-thirds of the way through this re-write. I've hit a snag - it's difficult to continue. The story is still there, but my motivation is not. Today I created only one-half a page, but that is good. For in the last two weeks I've created nothing.

It feels good to create again. My son says I'm wierd.