Good choices

The one thing I pray for without thinking twice is to make good choices. How do we know when we're making bad choices? Well, some of them are rather obvious. For instance, "Maybe I shouldn't have another martini while my ex-boyfriend is here with the Super Bitch." However, some choices are a little more tricky. Should I take that new job? Should I invest in a new floor for my living room? Should I yell at my kid just ONE more time for forgetting her spelling words for the third time this week? There are a lot of unknowns in life and not a lot of direction. We are, essentially, flying blind for most of it, praying our asses off, and crossing our fingers before jumping off of the cliff.

That's how I felt yesterday when I decided to table the 70,000 word manuscript that was viciously, unexpectedly chopped down to 53,000 words before my very eyes. Owie. I just knew, knew, I could not go through those 17,000 words again right away. So much of me went into those words. It felt worse than an amputation. I was devastated.

But I sighed, swallowed, had a cup of coffee, watched She's All That (because it was brainless, and I didn't have to focus), then decided to continue with the series I started last spring. All the while, I had no idea if I was condemning my writing career by not finishing what I was working on right away, which I am a big believer in.

As of today, I can tell you: GOOD CHOICE.

I sat down and started writing my little heart out. It was like I never left that world. Maybe I never did, because the MS I tabled was always harder to write than the series. I feel vindicated. I coughed out 2,000 words like it was nothing, and I intend to do so every day for the next several weeks. The first one in the series was written in eight weeks. I am not pressuring myself to do the same with RC, but I can feel that same fire. Watch out, world. This is big.