Something In Me Snapped Today . . .

and I knew what it was I wanted to write next.

You ever have those moments where you think about a possible next book. Yeah, I could do this, it sounds really good. But it's still undeveloped. Which is where I was after this weekend.

Oh, I'm not done with the fourth book in the Sabrina Strong series. I do want to begin my mystery series--I hope to this winter, after I get somethings figured out for it.

And there's another one nipping at my heals, and I keep on pushing it back as well. Probably will never get written, unless I win big money and don't have to work for a living.

And then, there I was minding my own business, and it jumped me. The idea. And it wasn't even an idea it was a sentence and then another and it kept coming and I said, "Oh. My. God! That's it! That's what I need to work on next.

The idea came to me as I pondered actually going ahead with this NaNoWriMo in November. I kept thinking "what are you thinking? With everything you need to do, and with a second book coming out at some point in the fall, where the hell are you going to have time to write 50K words in 30 days?"

No. No. And double-NO!!!

I'm not the kind who can just start typing and not look at my mistakes and go back over them. Can't. Sorry. Just not in me.

And why would I want to try and do this in 30 days when I can do it in 60, or 90 days?

But anyway, when I looked further into this NaNoWriMo, I realized there is no real prize. Oh. Yeah, you get to post the little do-dad on your blog that says you went through hell, made your family all go through hell while you sat at the computer or whatever and hammered out something that probably looks like a manuscript that went through the garbage disposal. Oh, but December is when you can go through it.

B.S. If I want to write something that means something to me, I will write it and I don't need no contest to make me do it. Thus, I won't be there, even though my picture is there. Don't bother coming around seeing if I'm there I'm not there.

The reason is, is because this story began in my head NOW. Not two, three or four weeks from now.

Here is the first sentenses of the work:

The beatings stopped after my mother died. I don't know why.