You may have noticed
the big gap in my postings over the winter months, not that I was stellar at it
in the first place. My completed novel (not published yet), The Special
Project, had a few queries out. My novel-in-progress, Our Egypt (working
title), was starting off strong, thanks to our government shutdown. Ahhh, for a
short time I was living my dream - writing as my full-time day job. Except for
the fact that writing wasn't my
full-time day job, I was happy.
Then my daughter,
Destany, calls me up and says, "You know that writing café you want to
open someday? Why wait?"
My answer - "I
can't afford to quit my paying job."Her response - "I'll move home and run it. So, why wait?"
My response - "Yeah! Why wait!"
And with that, we were off. For the next few months there were business plans, site searches, small business meetings, food safety classes, researching suppliers for local, animal and environmentally friendly products, furniture bargaining and begging, you name it…everything but writing. :( And I was becoming grumpy, because that's what writers do when they can't write, right? So my daughter and her grumpy non-writing mother finally found a site. After hours of reviewing and negotiating, a contract was signed. And we were happy dancing! We'd finally get this rolling to the next phase and I'd be one step closer to getting back on the writing track. Not so much. Then came commercial loan applications (cha-ching), architect and contractor meetings (cha-ching), meetings with the city, planning for code upgrades (cha-ching), appraisals (cha-ching), inspections (cha-ching)--then EEERRRRRRRRRTTTTT (that was the screeching sound of breaks). The termite inspector looked me square in the eyes and said that word, that word you bring him out and pay him good money (cha-ching) to tell you doesn't exist. The "T" word. Termites. Or at the very least, "evidence" of termite damage--mud tunnels and floor joist that had been eaten into the walls. And, because of the positioning of the building against the next, there was no good way to treat. Ugh. I could see the straw floating, floating, down from the sky and landing gingerly on the camel's back, then I watched his knees buckle. Our budget could take no more cha-ching, so we cut our losses.
More site searches
led to nothing suitable, so the Dayton Writers' Café is on hold and Mom is
writing again, which makes her very happy. Destany has connected with other
like-minded people and is becoming more involved with animal rights issues,
which makes her very happy, too. So maybe, just maybe, things are exactly the
way they're supposed to be. For now, anyway.
HAPPY WRITING!
