I usually enjoy writing about someone else’s wonderful book on this blog. Sometimes I just need a little time to write about me. Today is one of those days.
Last year was an epic year. Epic only in the life changing circumstances that brought alterations to my schedule and mindset. I finally reached the bitter conclusion that at the ripe old age of 52 I really was experiencing the horrible M word… menopause. After a trip to the gynecologist and a prescription of hormones, my life took a turn for the better.
I had no idea how insidious the loss of estrogen on the female body foiled the psyche and could transform one congenial, happy-go-lucky, optimistic and all around happy woman into a witch. Just a change in the delicate balance of our chemistry can alter everything about us. It did to me and I never in my whole life believed I would ever be affected. Even late in life, I considered myself above the fray, immune to the standard effects of life. I was a superwoman and nothing would bring me down. Rude awakening here. I too am human and not immune to life’s ups and downs.
I have to say I never intended to go on hormone therapy, but after feeling out of control and like a crazy person for so long, I decided I didn’t care if I died of cancer as long as I went out as sane woman. After six months on hormones I am so happy to declare, I feel normal and happy and my husband has his wife back. My kids will tell you the same thing.
The one blessing in all this is because of the menopause crisis, I turned to writing to meet some need deep down. In that attempt, I discovered this burning desire to write romances on paper. I had been writing them in my head since I was a child, but I’d never dreamed they could take the form of the written word. When the first book took shape on the computer screen, I was hooked. Here I am, three years later, hoping to make a name for myself in the romance market.
Finding time to write all I want to write is the biggest problem in my wonderful life now. I work full-time, thank God for a job, and I have a great family and a farm full of animals. Sitting down at the computer never seems to be as productive as I want it to be. The words come, but I am terribly picky about how they are placed. So the only one keeping me from writing more is myself. Having sold a story, my husband is beginning to believe this past time is more than just an annoying hobby. I will make a paying job of it eventually.
And that is all. I wish all my fellow writers good health and have a wonderful year.