I'm having a book published in December (she said, ducking her head in an attempt at modesty) and I, as you can imagine, am thrilled about it. It's great to feel the love, if you know what I mean. It's my first book--I try not to say "my only book" because even though I am sometimes sure there will never be another, I am working on "another" right now. I am about halfway done with it and starting to get excited that maybe one day some editor who is desperate enough to need my work, (or not in her right mind, or too drunk to see) might actually want to publish it. So, Saturday night I was stealing some time away from my family (and other needy causes such as the laundry and the dishes and the overflowing closets--you know, the kind you can't shut the door on because the door can't shut?) to get a few pages in on my newest writing project. (And I feel way guilty about it. Honest.)

I hadn't been in a writing mood, certainly not in a romantic mood (I write Jane Austen style romances) but I was actually producing some pretty decent stuff. Some of it was even inspired. Suddenly, I was in the groove, clipping away at the keyboard with something bordering on confidence and, dare I say, talent, when boom! It happened. My skitzo computer pulled a fast one on me and ditched the entire file. The entire file!!!! Panic-striken, I went through my document files and found a copy--phew! But all that inspired writing of the last hour and a half amounting to nearly three precious pages was lost forever.

I know this is not a tragedy. I know people suffer much greater losses. I've suffered greater losses. I have been poor, infertile, nearly homeless, while I and my family struggle along with physical and mental disabilities (we love you big guy!), including some pretty recent traumatic episodes of illness, gross toilet floods and inexcusable barfings (no one has to eat that much!) (see favorite posts) but I felt pretty darn sorrowful about my three lost pages.

So, again today, I ditched the housework, the spouse took the kids out to the movies and I started in on reconstructing those lost pages. But you know what? I didn't feel like it. I started in on a new scene, a pretty awesome, previously unthought-of scene AND my neighbor knocked on the door with delish gourmet homemade Mexican meal (she rocks!) so I don't even have to cook tonight. My cup runneth o'er. (see www.heidiashworth.com if you want to read more about my book. Or even if you don't. It might, just might begin to heal the wound . . .)