Let me repeat, if I haven't already made this clear, that the life of a novelist is far from glamorous.
I'm nowhere closer to being a runaway best-selling author. Connecting with readers is a bitch load of work, and while I have many gifts, effective promotion isn't one of them.
Actual writing is real, hard work, and the time in which to do it is preciously scarce. Because I'm not able to live on my royalties (see above), I have to spend the majority of my working hours in my "regular" life, which actually yields income. And that income is really important.
A recurrent theme on this blog is how I'm dealing with my elder child'a anxiety. I tumble through the proverbial hoops, arranging activities, visits to professionals, and just plain hanging on by my fingernails during the hell known as homework hour. I'll do whatever I can possibly do just to make the child's life a little bit easier, and by extension, the entire family's.
All of it costs money.
Yesterday, I gave up a birthday present for myself in favor of a lovely new gadget, the GeoSpa Aromatherapy Diffuser. Clocking in at $35, this wonder uses ultrasonic vibration to create water vapor and diffuse therapeutic essential oils into the air, for supposed health benefits. The child had asked for one of these. I have no idea how she learned of such things, but I've ceased to be amazed at the breadth of her knowledge. All I knew, when I saw this lovely in a discount department store near home, the only one on the shelf, was that bringing it home would make her happy, if only for a little while, and it might, just might turn a bit of the tide against the battle with the ever-present anxiety monster.
How ridiculous is that?
Of course, it came home. I'm trying to get rid of clutter in my house, not acquire new, but it came home. I'm trying to pay down debts and be responsible, but it came home. I have absolutely no indication that it actually has any value other than making the air smell nice, but it came home. She wanted it. 'Nuff said.
Looking back, I see the foolishness, but I also realize that I could no more have left that silly GeoSpa in the store than I could cut off my own arm. How many times have we done foolish things out of simple blind adoration of our children?
And now, as I write this, I hear in my head the words of scripture: "The foolishness of God is beyond all human wisdom." And I know that someone loved me in that completely foolish, crazy, blind, adoring way, enough to buy me a gift worth more than any aromatherapy diffuser - worth more than anything imaginable.
The things we do for our kids, right?
Peace, lovelies.
I'm nowhere closer to being a runaway best-selling author. Connecting with readers is a bitch load of work, and while I have many gifts, effective promotion isn't one of them.
Actual writing is real, hard work, and the time in which to do it is preciously scarce. Because I'm not able to live on my royalties (see above), I have to spend the majority of my working hours in my "regular" life, which actually yields income. And that income is really important.
A recurrent theme on this blog is how I'm dealing with my elder child'a anxiety. I tumble through the proverbial hoops, arranging activities, visits to professionals, and just plain hanging on by my fingernails during the hell known as homework hour. I'll do whatever I can possibly do just to make the child's life a little bit easier, and by extension, the entire family's.
All of it costs money.
Yesterday, I gave up a birthday present for myself in favor of a lovely new gadget, the GeoSpa Aromatherapy Diffuser. Clocking in at $35, this wonder uses ultrasonic vibration to create water vapor and diffuse therapeutic essential oils into the air, for supposed health benefits. The child had asked for one of these. I have no idea how she learned of such things, but I've ceased to be amazed at the breadth of her knowledge. All I knew, when I saw this lovely in a discount department store near home, the only one on the shelf, was that bringing it home would make her happy, if only for a little while, and it might, just might turn a bit of the tide against the battle with the ever-present anxiety monster.
How ridiculous is that?
Of course, it came home. I'm trying to get rid of clutter in my house, not acquire new, but it came home. I'm trying to pay down debts and be responsible, but it came home. I have absolutely no indication that it actually has any value other than making the air smell nice, but it came home. She wanted it. 'Nuff said.
Looking back, I see the foolishness, but I also realize that I could no more have left that silly GeoSpa in the store than I could cut off my own arm. How many times have we done foolish things out of simple blind adoration of our children?
And now, as I write this, I hear in my head the words of scripture: "The foolishness of God is beyond all human wisdom." And I know that someone loved me in that completely foolish, crazy, blind, adoring way, enough to buy me a gift worth more than any aromatherapy diffuser - worth more than anything imaginable.
The things we do for our kids, right?
Peace, lovelies.
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