It is a dark and stormy day....

It's windy out, the clouds are really on the move.  Dark gray and looking heavy with rain.  No drops yet though.  I had to turn on a light just to make it seem more like daylight.  

I am back at the computer.  Just re-wrote the first few pages of THE NOVEL.  Again.  Something about it wasn't right and was bothering me so I fixed it.  I wonder how many more times I will do this.  

I like the wind, the sound it makes whooshing through the trees.  Sometimes there is a gust hard enough to shake the 21 foot van we live in during the summer.  That's cool.  I don't even mind the darkness too much.  But when the rain comes, then it gets miserable.  I don't like rain, except at night, then I love the sound it makes, pitter pat on the roof.  Soothing.

Finished my breakfast and now will get back to writing.  Going to work on the synopsis.  I mean, what if someone actually reads my query letter and requests chapters and the synopsis.  Better have it ready.  Of course, I haven't sent out the query letters yet.  Fear.  I just hope that THE NOVEL is good.  The thought of someone laughing at my efforts, wondering why on earth I wasted my time writing, makes me ill.  I have no experience at writing, no contests, not even any writing groups.  I don't have the fancy piece of paper that says I am smart, that might make me qualified to be a 'writer'.  I just write.  The words just come.  The stories whirl around in my head until I put them on paper.  I cannot stay away from the writing.  Most days I begin at 9 or so in the morning and write until 11 or so at night.  I do take a nap.  I might do some laundry.  At 4:17 pm I have a beer.  I cook dinner for my husband.  But mostly, I write.

Does this make me a writer?

I haven't always done this.  I began writing just 6 months ago.  Before that I painted, sewed, knit, made costumes for a living, all sorts of artsy stuff, but the only writing I did was two plays, which I did write, produce, and direct.  Successful and profitable even.

But one day, while I was trying to nap this story just settled in my head.  I had to get up and write it.  So I did.  And now, 6 months later, I have re-written it many times, written another novel and begun a third.  I guess the worst that will happen is my great grandchildren will find a box of manuscripts someday and have a good laugh.  The best is that my work will get published and I can go on doing what I can't not do, and get paid for it.  oooooh.  That would be good.  Yeah.......I think I will end this blog on that bright note.  Writing AND money.