Nearing The End ...
The post isn't as nearly as foreboding as the title may seem, I promise. Well, not for the reader, anyway.

It's not often I blog about my personal life or give updates in that regard, but this is a special case. Today marks the almost 33rd week of my third pregnancy. That means I'm only 7-8 weeks away from the birth of my third son. I suppose I could write something funny about messy houses and rowdy kids for the next eighteen years of my life, but I'd rather not. I think it goes without saying, honestly.

My writing life and family life usually become a well balanced act. More like a work horse that knows exactly what it has to do, but is never given nearly enough hours in the day to do it. I used to wonder if not being able to make a permanent daily word count (or page count) goal like we authors are so often told to do ("If you want to be professional, you must treat it as a job.") made me a failure in some way. Because sure, by the end of the week, I had a ton of writing done, but that didn't mean I was able to do it daily for an allotted time period successfully. I don't think it does make me a failure, now.

I was once told that if I wanted to be a successful writer and continue in this career, I needed to, "Spend more time learning the craft." It was also mentioned I should take part in online courses, perhaps some seminars on how-to do whatever.

Right ...

*tries to stare over my hugely pregnant stomach at the nearly five-year-old and nearly three-year-old crawling under my legs as I type this very sentence while they scream at the top of their lungs*

Whoever made up the term "terrible twos" should be shot, FYI. It doesn't end at two for those that were hoping.

I'm certainly not perfect. I don't have all the skills imaginable, never mind knowing every inch and facet of this business that I should. Obviously. Every step is a journey, and every new thing is a learning curve for me, one I enjoying excelling, and sometimes failing, at. Sitting for hours (on the off chance I get any privacy or time alone to be able to actually participate in something like I mentioned above) doesn't ring my bells or start my engine. Not that it makes a difference, but it also isn't how I learn. Seems like a giant waste of what precious time I may have to get myself somewhere in this game, doesn't it?

Maybe that just makes me sound damn ungrateful, too. Walk a mile, you know.

As I near the end of this pregnancy, I know I'm going to have even less time to participate in what things I manage to, and even less time to write and fail at those "daily goals". Frankly, I already am. This pregnancy, my like my previous two, has been anything but easy. I was put off work earlier than I liked due to complications. I've suffered from repeated UTI and kidney infections and have recently fought with kidney stones, just to make everything that much more fun. I should technically be on bed-rest, but with a house to take care of, hubby who works a fulltime night job, and two young sons full of nothing but piss and vinegar, just the word best-rest is a fucking joke. I don't have the time to be sitting around doing nothing, unfortunately.

So, some time in the near future it may seem as though I've dropped off the radar other than the occasional blog post from me personally or update on my Facebook fan page. I'm still here, I promise. I just have things that need to be taken care of first in my daily life, like any other mom and person. Because even if writing was my fulltime job, I'd still have to take steps away occasionally to deal with the priorities that should and do come first.

Needless to say, The Score (The final installment to Viviana and Anton's story, coming late October) will be the last novel I publish this year. Expect to see something new from me in January, though.

See you soon ...

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