Books have shown me what is wrong with my life. I am in the middle of reading the Lord of the Rings series. Great read, but not compelling enough to keep me from the library scouting out even more books. I checked out a couple, then bought a few more at D.I. Choices are what I have all over the floor of my messy room. Do I read the children's mystery story? The science fiction sequel? The Bean Trees? Or do I plunge forward with Lord of the Rings so I have it read by the time the movie comes out?

Too many choices! I want to read them all, and all at once. Of course I can't have them all at the same time, so my temporary solution was to read nothing.

And that's my life in a nutshell. I have so many options, so many things I want to accomplish, learn and do. I want it all now, so the outcome is: I get nothing.

When I started reading "The Westing Game", I realized that, hey, I'm a fast reader, so if I apply a little perseverance and patience, I'd actually get to read them all, and in a fairly short time.

As for my life, I need to choose one or two things and actually do them. And top on my list today is writing. I've found I forget or don't want to do the things that are most important to me. In chasing all kinds of dreams, I forgot that writing is vital to me, my life, my breath. I was choking to death.

Hello, I'm back and breathing.

 

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