It’s all about the journey

It’s been more than a month since I wrote a blog post. I could offer a variety of excuses,but the truth is, I just haven’t myasworldhad the time. My spare time, when I have any, has been filled with my many projects. Most recently, I’ve been busy putting the final touches on the third and final book in my “Between Worlds” series, “Mya’s World.”

I started editing last week, but it’s slow-going. I have to be careful about how I go about it. As other writers will agree, it’s tough trying to edit your own work. We stop seeing the mistakes. We know what we intended to write, and our minds can play tricks on us. Handing it off to someone to edit is always a good idea, but if you are like me, I have to look at it one more time before I submit it, and that’s usually where I get into trouble.

I end up wanting to rewrite some of it, and that usually takes even more time. Then I have to hand it back to my editing buddy, and well, you know what happens. It ends up becoming a perpetual and never-ending cycle of editing.

I literally have to force myself to stop writing, or I would never finish a book.

As daunting as the editing process is, it doesn’t compare to the feeling I have when I open the cardboard box and pull out a finished version of something I created.

But satisfaction isn’t the only thing I gained from this experience. Since I started the “Between Worlds” series 3 years ago, I have not only become a better writer, but I have become a better storyteller, too. There is a distinct difference between reporting a news or feature story and trying to engage a reader while telling an interesting tale. I have learned more from this experience than I ever did sitting in a classroom.

I don’t have a lot of reviews of my book on Amazon, but the people who have read my books say they enjoy them. And though I am grateful I can write something that people enjoy, I have my own selfish reasons for writing them.

I write because I love to write. It’s what I do. And if I couldn’t do it, well, I’m not sure what I would do. Most likely, I would just suck it up and move on, but there would be definitely something missing from my life.

(You can read a preview of the book by going to my website.)









Wednesday Wanderings

I guess we’ll have to add racism as one of those subjects you need to avoid if you don’t want to start an argument.

Just like in politics and religion, everyone has a different opinion, and by the time you state your belief on the subject, the other person has already established your opinion doesn’t matter.

I understand racism and sexism and all the other “isms” people seem to be coming up with every day, but there is one thing I don’t understand: When did we become a society so afraid of offending people?

I mean no offense (see?) but the truth is, I don’t want to go through the rest of my life afraid I’ll say something to someone who may take it the way I unintended and be offended by it, and ending up on the evening news.

It isn’t about color or sex or even ability. It’s all about how you treat other people:

How you treat people doesn’t say anything about who they are, but who you are. 

I consider myself a good person, but even I judge. We all do. It’s built into us humans as a defense mechanism and it tells me whether or not I want to keep associating with certain individuals.

It doesn’t tell me what color your skin is or what gender you are. My internal data collector goes through my list of criteria, which I have already established in my 52 years, and asks the simple question:

“Is this a good person?”

Most of the time my instincts are dead-on Sometimes, however, untrustworthy people slip through,but it’s not long before I realize it, and I do what I have to do to correct the situation.

My mind is wandering with 100 different reasons to be offended. But I know what other people think of me is nothing I should take personal. It’s all about their mindsets, their fears, and their inability to cope with who am I.

And how I live my life is really none of their business, anyway.