Long time, no post.
I've been ... well, in fact I've been hiding. Recovering from the implosion that was my life in 2013, and the shrapnel and PTSD that lingered on into 2014. I had little that I would have dubbed worthwhile to report. And my plans for the Otherborn final book have all but disappeared behind a mountain of new responsibilities. I'm not sure I'll ever dig them out again. And for a while it seemed this whole author shindig might just be a wash.
In truth, it's still hanging by a thread. But it's a thread I refuse to let go of. If I have to chew my way through life in order to keep my fingers firmly knotted around this one, small thing for myself, then I will.
For now, that means snatches of time and snippets of words, and an agent I feed pages to the way the Romans must have fed the lions in the Coliseum--gnarly bones and scraps of old gladiator until a fresh kill could be arranged in proper "spectacle" style.
And while I sometimes miss being able to sidle up to my pc morning after morning in my Mr. Roper bathrobe, chugging coffee and chapters until the kids come home, I'm glad to be writing at all. And I'm proud of the work I'm doing, whether it goes anywhere or not. AND, I must admit, my life is full of many wonderful things which have truly been a blessing to me. There's probably a little more balance now. I'm told that's a healthy thing.
I would like to see more time and energy go back into writing in 2015. I'd like this to be the year I remember how it feels to really grind a novel out. One that I'm so immersed in it's hard to come up for air. I wrote a novel last year. I even like it. But I didn't feel present for much of it.
In truth, I don't know what 2015 holds for Anna Silver. I hope some good things. Maybe some big things. I'd be happy with anything. Just so long as she's still here. So long as I still get to be her. I think she has a lot to say yet.