So my husband – yeah, you read that right – told me yesterday in his classic direct and awesome way that the most talented writers write 7 days a week for at least four hours per day.

Problem solved.

You guys know I love inspirational quotes, but I’ll spare you from reading the ones about doing anything you put your mind to.  At present, I’m mad at my mind because it won’t stop telling me to write; I’m more mad at the rest of myself for not doing it.  How can I go around spouting off about my disdain for all things hypocritical when hello….?  You can’t actually say you love something and totally ignore it for twenty-eight hours a week.  Imagine if I ignored my husband – yeah, still reading it correctly – for twenty-eight hours a week.  My soon-to-be pseudonym would be Liz Taylor.

Someone with whom I have worked for many years once told me it’s intriguing, weird, and inexplicable that I want everyone to like me.  Of course his unfounded diagnosis wasn’t even fully completed in the form of a sentence before I began systematically outlining the reasons that was obviously ridiculous.  Remember that one nut job?  You know I didn’t care about whether or not he/she liked me after…

He interrupted and said something about that being his exact point.  Me even allowing said nut jobs in proximity to my space, my time, my life was absurdity in and of itself, and in his non-qualified estimation, I allowed it so as to avoid people from not liking me or thinking I was mean.

Whatever about that and his point.  But let’s pretend he may have had one and I finally admitted as much.  How does that relate to writing?

Well, as Aristotle would say:  “There is only one way to avoid criticism: do nothing, say nothing, and be nothing.”

Who trifles with Aristotle?  Not this chick.  And I’m pretty sure not even Amy Schumer whose book I could not put down.  All I kept thinking is, if she can be that transparent and share her own nut job stories in an effort to help assuage others of their guilt for past mistakes, so can I. Because let’s be honest – real stuff is funnier than made up stuff and trust me, you cannot make up ANY of what I can tell you.

My new site is underway.  Hoping to have the direction, vibe, aesthetics, functionality, etc etc figured out by the end of the year and never look back.  If I can get through cancer, a couple divorces, raising a teenage daughter, battling constant religious struggles, other life-long internal demons and a guy who vacillated between wearing Batman masks and skull caps, I can find twenty-eight hours a week.