Of returns and expectations

Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory - the chocolate room

I never know how to start these “statement of intent”-style posts, despite doing them so often. Mostly because it’s utter ego-fluffing (why not write a real post and move along? why the commentary?) and I’m just self-aware enough to know that, so it’s also embarrassing, but I can’t not do it. I’ve got a genetic mutation that requires I make a Grand Proclamation whenever my life/work/blog status changes. Why couldn’t I have gotten telekinesis instead?

Anyway.

This is just a little note to say that the word factory is reopening.

It’s been nine months since I put out Mirror of Ashes and then declared an indefinite hiatus from writing. Five since I announced we’re expecting our first child. During that time, I’ve been spiritually smacked around, thinking and praying hard about why I write, why I quit, and why any of it matters in the grand scheme of things. The lessons I learned are precious and (I think) worth sharing, so I’ll be posting about them soon, but for now, the upshot is that the desire to write never fully disappeared.

So here I am, back at the desk.

Tricky part is, though, I’m six(ish) weeks away from giving birth. Six weeks from any semblance of normalcy and order being catapulted out the window and me having to start all over again. Again.

Given that, here’s what you can expect from me, this space, and my writing:

Nothing.

Yes, I’ll be working. As soon as this is posted, I’ll swivel in my chair and start laying the bones for Apple of Chaos, the next Forgotten Relics book, and I’d like to do more shorts and flashfic. But I can’t go back to the way I used to do things–all stress and striving and other yucky things that start with S. I’m poised to enter a new chapter of my story, one with intense character development and plot twists for which no protagonist can be prepared (cue melodrama). So I can’t make any promises about what and when. It wouldn’t be fair to you, dear reader, or to me or my husband or my impending daughter.

I’m holding this return lightly. It’s my hope that you will, too.

Thanks for sticking with me as I ebb and flow. I know I’ve said it many times, but it never stops being true: I’m so grateful you’re here. It’d be a lonely adventure indeed without you.

See you ’round the ‘verse.

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