With the coming of the cold weather my parents have, smartly, taken themselves down to Florida. I miss them already and they only left this morning. I guess I've never really grown up. I'm raising three children and I still want my mommy and daddy like I'm ten years old. Oh well. Perhaps I will never change. I finished writing chapter five in my work-in-progress (which is the Westervelt Wolves book for those of you keeping track) and after I do some reading and pick up one of my children I hope to finish another chapter today.
I feel like I've stumbled, blindly, into a time of reflection for myself. What will be the next step when the path I am on comes to an end? What will I write next? I'm fortunate that my husband and children love their crazy writer wife/mother.
I can tell you one thing: never again will I maintain writing four different series at the same time. Two. Maximum Two.
Live and Learn.
Love to All.
RR
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