Lack of blog updates = more novel writing. YAY me! I made a semi-quasi-resolution to write more, but I wasn't going to pressure myself into doing something my head can't handle. I have to remember that I'm flawed, just like everyone else. My flaws may be different - that's why they're mine - but they're still there and interfere with my life on a daily basis. It's not easy to be an unemployed single mother who suffers from "severe recurrent depressive disorder and panic disorder with agoraphobia." We went to the grocery store today (Wegmans kicks ass) but going there on a Saturday afternoon is like going to Walmart -- it's a panic attack waiting to happen. But I needed to get my meds, so I didn't have a choice. I made it through, I think, pretty good, still avoiding people like the plague, but still, I got what we needed and got out.
Writing has always been therapy for me, whether it be poetry, blog/journal entries, or stories. They help me deal with and escape the thoughts that suffocate me, bringing me into a new world where I have control.
The past few days I've been working on chapters 3 and 4 of my novel, "The Grand Awakening." Reading over the story I haven't touched in over a year made me realize how much I've missed my characters. For awhile, they were the only friends I had. A part of this story is a reflection of what was going on in my life when I started writing it back in 2006; living in Binghamton, NY (the Vale), feeling like I had an obligation to someone, feeling trapped and alienated by the people around me, not having anyone who truly understood me, and constantly being underestimated. The origins of Aubrey's character come from me, but the person she really is is more than I could ever dream to be. She's strong, smart, forgiving, loving, and, most of all, fearless. She doesn't let anyone stand in her way or tell her she can't do something. She does it anyway. She proves them wrong. She may be nervous, but she doesn't let it overwhelm her from doing what she needs to do.
That is my truth inside the lie. I guess it's not really a lie, but it's my truth hidden behind a veil of fiction.