Okay . So . . . yeah, apparently I'm blogging now. Believe me, I'm as surprised as you are about this fact. You see, what had happened was that I was straightening my hair this morning and as I picked up one mottled clump of hair and prepared to sizzle it between two extra hot plates of metal so that I could achieve the sleek straight hair that all of the magazines say I should desire, I suddenly said to myself, "I think I'll blog. Hmmm, good idea." (Not out loud of course, that would be crazy!) So here I am.
I mean I signed up for this blog, like, a year ago and it's just been sitting here doing nothing. And it already had my name on it. See up there, yeah, that's me. And it also had all these nifty tidbits of info about me like . . . I really enjoy listening to Keane, and . . . I like to write, and . . . maybe sometimes I run, and stuff. So, I've got that going for me and that's good.
So . . . what to blog about? Hmm.
Well, let's start with me and go from there. On the outside, I am pretty much your typical mother of three stay-at-home-mom who drives a minivan and makes cupcakes that look like animals and sews my kids Halloween costumes whenever they let me and who almost always has a knitting project on my nightstand along with my paperback book and alarm clock that rings at 6:30 in the morning so that I can get up and iron for my husband, fix breakfast for my family that I can't eat because I'm always watching my waistline and pack lunches for everyone who is leaving the house and then I go to the gym because of the waistline again and get home and play Barbie and make lunch again and clean and cook and get the kids from the bus stop and then do homework while cooking and cleaning and keeping the other kids entertained and then do more cleaning and bathing and reading (for kids) and tucking in and set my alarm clock for 6:30 the next day. Sound familiar? You're probably thinking that you've met me many times in your life. But actually, I'm not that woman at all.
Well, who am I then? I like to think that I am a writer. I feel like I'm deluding myself if I say this, but it's true. I am. I am a writer. I've written three novels and am actively seeking representation for the third one. I still love the first two and am trying to revise them in the hopes that one day they too will be ready to make the query rounds. But even if my mom is the only one who reads these novels, that's still okay, because the joy of getting them published can only be marginally better than the joy I received from actually writing them. I have other hobbies as well to keep me occupied because I feel like I've been getting more and more stupider since I had children, but the writing is the king of the hobbies and is really less of a hobby and more of an obsession.
I feel a bit foolish for starting this blog. I have the same questions going through my head that I did when I wrote my first novel: Who cares? Who would want to read this? Why, oh why would they want to read it? But I got over that feeling around chapter 20, so maybe I'll get over this one too. We'll see!