Falling off the planet

Hi everyone. I’m very sorry for my absence.

2020 has been a very tough year for us all. A lot of experts are predicting a tough decade ahead. Financially. Socially. And then there is the pandemic.

Whatever your beliefs on it, I don’t want to get into a debate about it because like everything these days, it just creates strife and discord. I’ve pretty much reached my personal limit for that nonsense.

My mother died in early June. Something I thought would not impact me very hard because she was sick much of her life and made it to 73. But it did impact me. I’ve thought about her a lot in the last months. The indignities she suffered in early life and how that formed her into who she was. We didn’t always get along, but I got to see her in late May, spend a few days with her. The specter of death was shocking, seeing my strong mother reduced to a near skeleton and struggling with pain. She and I talked when she could, and we made our peace. I kissed her forehead, told her I loved her, and that I’d see her granddaughters raised to strong women like she’d been. That gave her satisfaction, and she told me she’d always known I would take care of my kids.

I have done nothing during her final sickness and since her death but a bit of work on the house and playing video games. It was a pathetic escape from this reality we find ourselves in this year, but to be honest I didn’t and don’t care. Many have alcohol, some have drugs, some sex addiction… I’m undoubtedly a video game addict. But during my thoughts of family, the fate of us all, and even thoughts of my dog as he lay next to me slowly fading (he’s a 15 year old Labrador) I needed a distraction.

Yesterday I put together the first 23 pages of my 8th book in the Dark Seas series into a submission to my critique group. Which I’ve missed greatly as we shut down for COVID-19 for a while. We’re going to be meeting on Zoom, discussing our materials, and getting back into the groove.

That should get me writing again. I have a series to finish and another to continue to see where it takes us.

The good news? Writing will still be an escape from this reality. And it’s honestly why I provide it to you, so that, for a bit, you might be somewhere else and see how another character solves their problems.

Again, I’m sorry. I haven’t cried about the loss of a family member since I was 8 and a much loved grandparent died. At 54 I’m not ashamed to say I wept fully for my mother. She deserved that much from her only child.

But life goes on. And now so will the stories.

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