I love fiction. I've read all kinds of books, of course, but fiction has always reigned for me. Writing fiction, however, has been stalled. I don't have writer's block, I have writer's brick wall.
So imagine my surprise when I was jotting a few thoughts down in the journal, on parenting, of all things- and I decided to start typing it up. Suddenly thoughts are flooding me. I can barely type fast enough to get it all.
Could I be actually writing a non-fiction book? And do I qualify to give anybody advice? I have no alphabet soup after my name. I do have two pretty great kids, though. Maybe you can explain it to me.
Or maybe you can explain why my dog can whine and moan and lie on her back and paw the air like she's saying CAN THE POOR, POOR DOGGIE GET A LITTLE BIT OF AFFECTION FROM YOU, PLEASE and when I reach down to give her the begged-for belly rub she springs up to sniff her butt to check if it's still there. Whichever is easier.
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3 comments:
As far as the writing goes, go with what works!
As far as the belly-butt thing? You're on your own, sister.
Have a nice weekend--don't labor too hard!
Me, labor? I thought you knew me better than that!
Well, there's always a market for hilarious motherhood.
Why don't you see where it takes you?
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