Thoughts on a Thoughtful Sunday Night

I’ve been feeling quite small lately. Insignificant. I haven’t felt this way in some time now, so I guess it was bound to strike me again. But I don’t know how to overcome this feeling.

Somewhere along the way, I’ve lost myself. I used to have these big dreams. Plans. I was going to motivate and inspire. But instead, I’m the one in need of those motivators.

Life is a fickle thing, right? You think perhaps you’ve cracked its code, that you understand it enough to get through the day-to-day routines it brings. But then, bam. Nope. Don’t think so, Life says. Not today, Lauren. Not today.

I’m not trying to accomplish anything with this post. Nothing of importance has prompted this post. It’s just that sometimes writing helps sort through feelings.

That’s all this was.

Maybe you can relate.

How to Leave that First Book Behind

I started writing I’m Only Me in 2011. I am forcing myself to give the manuscript ONE last pass* as I’m preparing to send it to agents. With that in mind, the first fifty pages are finished. As in I will NOT go back and read them.

And I can’t properly articulate the emotions I’m feeling. I know it’s cheesy, but these characters are more than dialogue and description on a page. They feel more real to me than actual people. I’d even go as far as to say they’re like friends. Wow, cheese! Get me some nachos.

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