.@VickiBatman - What Makes me Stop Writing? #readromance #RomanceLivesForever #MFRWauthor

I remember the first time my brain didn’t want to write. I’d been working on my first romantic comedy mystery for a few months when Handsome was diagnosed with throat cancer. My whole world stopped. (FMI see Romance Lives Forever at: Romance Lives Forever .)

But how to keep the creativity going? I did develop a game plan—I took writing classes (didn’t comment much but worked on all lessons), played my favorite Word Search no Vowels, I critiqued with friends, journaled, attended my local romance writing chapter meetings. Most importantly, I set a deadline for after when his treatment would end and our lives would be back on track.

On the designated date, I booted up my computer and found my book. It had been haunting me, and when thoughts popped in my head, boom! I wrote them down and saved them. I had decided if I could only write twenty words, that was what I would do. I started with chapter one and worked. I was so nervous because I thought what if I can’t get back in my groove? The next day, I did better, and after that, better, till finally, my fingers were flying again.

Then ten years later, Handsome had to have a reconstructive plastic surgery (FMI: Romance Lives Forever ).

I had already been having trouble with my third book in the series; however, I had signed up to put a short story in an anthology. I worked and worked on it instead, and by the time we left the hospital, I’d submitted it.

Sometimes, fun doesn’t end. Now, Handsome is having another reconstructive plastic surgery. And you know what? I’m in the groove. I’ve been working on my third book and things are humming. Last year, I had mega trouble with this book, but I sat down in the fall and worked out the problem, and now, it feels good.

My lesson is persevere. I didn’t give up on me. I found a way to get me through the tough times.

So, here’s a tiny bit from Book 3 in the Hattie Cooks mystery series, Temporarily Out of Luck:

And I knew it took a great deal of courage to state what he’d just asked--to get lucky--although I knew he meant he really wanted us to explore the couple route. I knew from firsthand experience how much guts were required ‘cause several months back, I’d asked him to choose me.

         -That was after I’d been stabbed.

         -After I’d figured out he’d used me for information.

         -After we’d nearly had almost wild, almost sex.

         Sex would have been good. I set my finger to my lower lip, letting my mouth curve at the corners, remembering. Everybody knows sex is a good thing.

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