"I hate that box--In it or out of it. I never get it right." --Unknown
It's been awhile since I sat down and added to this BookOrBust site.
I'd like to say that writing a book about Ed is a snap! I'd like to be able to tell the world that, yippee, alleluiah, amen, I have an outline, three chapters, and a synopsis neatly typed and that there is an agent banging on my front door begging me to keep writing, a publisher ringing the telephone with an offer. But I can't. And that's because like the Virginia Slim's ad proclaims, "You've come a long way, Baby!" And I have.
Ouch! It hurts so much. I'd rather be at Dunkin' Donuts eating a chocolate confetti covered donut and sipping a cup of hot tea.
I have discovered going back to Ed's death and revisiting my past life with my great deceased friend is like opening a wound with a jackhammer--it seems the pain never truly ends. It's just that I have learned well how to move forward, how to live life to the fullest, how to celebrate simple pleasures, how to laugh, and yes, love. Again! How to not look back.
I'm working on the outline since my last post. It's a slow process. Pouring through old journals, reading Ed's words, things he said to me, our most private moments, our last kiss--make me sad--and cause me to stumble. In my mind's eye there is a tear.
I'm sorry about that. I'll work harder. I mean it. I'll really try.
There is sunshine here on Planet Connecticut this Halloween Eve. From my office window, I can see the splendor of autumn pressed into the landscape of a turquoise colored sky. The mighty oaks and dainty elms that fill the yard have all turned to shades of burnt umber, pumpkin orange, and golden yellow--A sure sign of change--My cue to change, too.
Here I go. One more time.
Today the outline!
Hey! Why not join me? Just pick up a pen.