I want to be Vulcan, said it before, now I mean it. Everything’s figured out in my plan. I was moving forward and I am stopped dead in my tracks.
Two books past a publishing review board was boosting my mood. I didn’t want to be in Spain without a publishing deal. I was getting everything I wanted to go in peace. My life long dream coming true right before my eyes.
Nothing else mattered; happy as I could be right now. Until, the diagnosis of my Mother. Water on the brain or hydrocephalus. Why do I care? I never liked her, trying to remind myself. I never did.
I am working two jobs now to get out of here. I barely have time for anything else. I don’t want to stay here and change my plans to help my demented mother with dementia.
Family meeting : Angie, is the best candidate to help. “You can write and help look after her.“ My brother said with the perfect solution in his eyes. How do you figure that?
Are you kidding, I thought. “Torture stories” I mumbled. I am writing better than I ever have now. My creative fairy is holding my hand. I can’t let go of it now.
My sequel is brilliant. I didn’t know I had that in me. Does anyone get that. I don’t think they do. Not sure it would help if they did since, it’s me annoying myself. This keg of worms just opened.