Typically, when a writer makes a comeback, they have some grand story or explanation of why they disappeared from public spaces.
The few loyal followers wonder “What happened? It's been nearly five years?”
Well, it's easier to say what didn't happen.
I did NOT get kidnapped by the Fairy Courts for my penny-whistle playing.
I did NOT catch the Plague.
I did NOT get turned into a frog, raven, swan, etc by a jealous rival.
I did NOT travel to Narnia.
I did NOT embark on a perilous quest to retrieve a cup of the Water of Life for an ailing loved one.
One the positive side
I did NOT
forget my logins.
I did NOT loose my manuscript, despite an overly complicated computer situation.
I did NOT give up my dream to be a published author. This hiatus was more like setting your best hat in the closest while working storm clean-up.
No, I will not be posting a 5,000 work
history of what all happened. A lot of it involved family and
friends. I step away (more like ran screaming) from social media
because there was a very real risk of me word vomiting private issues
on a public forum.
I'm just aspiring novelist who wears a hat and overthinks everything. I don't have any public relations instincts. Look through my pre-2020 Twitter history and you'll find at least three instances of me thoroughly sounding like a over-privilege ignorantly bigoted white chick. (I also got a nasty shock when I looked-up the history of the word 'trilby.')
I apologize if I worried anyone. However, I felt that my family's privacy and my stress level made an unsafe combo. Letting my small writer's platform wither on the vine was painful. However, I took a page from Ecclesiastes (not literally).
“To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.”
The beautiful part of this proverb is the reminder that seasons are a cycle. They don't last forever. The 'perfect moment' may be gone. However, life will someday bring a chance to try again.
This is me, trying again five years later.
