I’m not a great one for looking back or for making resolutions come January 1st. I suppose a big part of the ‘no resolutions’ thing is due to the fact that now, at the age I am at, I have just about sorted out the shape and weight of my own skin and I’m happy to say that I am comfortable in it.
I’m not saying that I’m perfect . . . although?
No, of course I’m not perfect. I’m a nightmare.
I rant and rave. I’m hugely opinionated. I ride Richard way too hard most of the time. I fail to have long-term friendships because I expect too much of people. I never forget and rarely forgive a hurt. I have principles and standards that are way too high for the average human being to accept. I expect trust and honesty.
These things, and more, stain my character.
But, this is my character and no matter what, it isn’t going to change now.
In my defence I could say that although I ride family and friends almost into the ground I will defend them to the end. I may exhaust them but I will never let anyone else do the same. I would kill and take a bullet for my son and grandchildren. I may have to consider the situation regarding Richard?
So, no, I’m not a great one for looking back – and the forward bit will come of its own accord – God willing – but these next few months will bring changes. Of this I am pretty sure.
Come the new year Richard will be redundant and out of a job. I don’t know where this will lead. In the past he has always said that we couldn’t leave this area because the job was ‘just up the road’ and it paid well. With the job gone we no longer have that restriction. I only returned to this town, twenty-four years ago, to be near to my ageing parents, should they need me, but they are both now long gone and resting with the angels. We could now find that little two-up two-down cottage and paddock in the country. OK, so it would have to be in deepest rural Scotland or Wales but it is a possibility.
And come the new year I have to find the answer to a very big question – do I want to continue writing?
The urge I guess will always be there, and of late I have dabbled with illustrations for my next children’s book, but it is so hard trying to promote and sell books – especially for someone like me who is utterly hopeless at selling herself. I enjoy the time spent on social media – mostly – but when I try to justify the hours and energy spent in attempting to sell my books I truly have to ask myself – is it worth it? Is too much life passing me by?
I am in the fortunate position of being able to do pretty much as I like with my days so it isn’t that ‘promoting’ is taking me away from other things – but just the same, it does come as pretty soul-destroying when hours and hours of time and effort produce little or nothing. I know, for a fact, that I am not alone with this ‘feeling.’ I know of other authors who swear they will never type another word and question is it worth it. Perhaps it all comes down to – do we write because we have to – or do we write because we want to sell books and entertain readers with our imaginings?
I have ‘met’ some lovely people, helpful and encouraging to a fault, but I have also met some pricks. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to type that word because I’m trying to be serious here but it’s true.
These, then, are my next two big ‘unknowns.’
The unknown should probably frighten me but it doesn’t.
My base is strong. The towers may crack. They may even fall. My castle may be nothing more than dust on the ground? But the base will still be there and if you have a base you have the ability to rebuild, change things around a little.
There may well be things that I cannot change and rearranging as the years flash past but for now I will sit-a-spell and think.
See, I can be serious.
All for now.
Take care my lovelies x