It occurred to me, as I was thinking about the future today that the perfect opportunity is out there. I simply have yet to find it. Or, perhaps, it has yet to find me.
I was supposed to go to San Francisco and meet with a couple of writing agents but that fell through due to financial problems. I've got a writing contract and am working on a novel that I believe has incredible potential if I'm allowed to write it. A woman contacted me about an ordeal she is experiencing and asked me to write the novel based on her experiences. She's the victim of mortgage fraud and is struggling to deal with all the financial and emotional ramifications of it. Some of the people involved in the case are famous, many are still being victimized and the perpetrator is rubbing it in. He even brought up a restraining order against her this past month.
The potential here is tremendous. Unfortunately, she cannot afford to pay me and I just lost what work I did have coming in. I simply cannot afford to take the time to write it unless I have a way in which to get to a city (I live in a rural area) where I can use my talents to bring in other work. The rent may not be paid this month.
The ideal situation, I've decided, is to find a place in which I could live in and take care of someone or do counseling in a domestic abuse shelter or home. I once worked as a supervisor in a crisis center and I loved it. I also counseled abused women after having gotten out of an abusive situation myself.
How wonderful it would be to find someplace like that, where they would accept my twenty year old son (he's high functioning autistic and looking for work as well). I could do the counseling I love and write. It would also enable me to have the time to work on creating The Ability Link.
I am so ready to move on from here any way. I have no roots here, despite having lived here nearly all my life. Circumstances have made it impossible for me to run a business (another book in itself) and I need to start over again.
I wonder if it is possible...

Ten days and counting. Ten days until my youngest child heads out the door for
college and I begin a new journey. Because I am divorced, this is a path I will travel
alone. One moment I am eagerly looking forward to the freedom and the next I am
fearfully anticipating the silence. Only ten days.

It's not as though I didn't know this time was coming at some point. I was never one
of those mothers who held on to their children tightly. Each milestone in their lives
was a point of celebration, a message to me that time does not stand still. I did not
stand in the window of the Kindergarden classroom watching to see how quickly
each child assimilated. Instead, I ran to the car as soon as I dropped the youngest
off and headed to the mall. Then, I felt guilty when I discovered later that she had
had problems finding her classroom. Apparently, I had taken her to the wrong one.
But, she survived and grew strong and independent. And, so did I.

It was this independence that I instilled in my children that allowed me to walk away
from 15 years of abuse and anger. We held one another up during the difficult times.
All four of us, huddled together against the elements of unpaid bills and no jobs.
I fought for them with tears and self-righteous indignation against a man who didn't
care, and didn't call. I swallowed the angry words of sarcasm when he suddenly
showed up once more and they went running. I tried to hide the jealousy I felt
seeing him get the attention when I was the one who raised them alone.

And, now they are leaving again. This time to face the world as adults. I must let
them go to make their mistakes and raise their own families. They will come home
again, but as visitors. No longer children they will pass through and leave footprints
on my floor and imprints on my heart. And, I must learn to go on to take care of my own needs, desires, wants. Perhaps to fall in love again. Or, perhaps to simply slip into a comfortable existence, coming to terms with the reality of aging.

Ten more days. Only ten more days.

I feel as though I have missed so much the past two weeks. I did not intend to breeze in and breeze out again. Unfortunately, when dealing with this illness it sometimes happens that way. On top of this, I am getting ready to send my two daughters off to college and begin dealing with the rest of my life.
There's really not much to tell at the moment. I have been preoccupied with a book I am writing on purchasing real estate on eBay. Romantic, isn't it? Lol, part of a ghost writer's life, I guess. I write what I'm told. I think my next ebook, though, will be more spiritual. I need something creative... something that will flow with me. I'm not entirely certain I know what I mean, I hardly expect anyone else to so don't worry! But, shouldn't life be like poetry? Descriptive, beautiful, fulfilling.
Time to get back into teh groove and act as though I know what I'm talking about, lol. Maybe tomorrow, I will...

Thanks for stopping by and checking out my first entry. I'm a professional writer with three kids in college. About this time I am beginning to wish my talents lay more in a field that paid better, lol. However, I have tried working in other jobs and it just never seemed to work out unless it was in the creation of a new business. Writing, it seems, is in my blood.

Acting is the same way. My major in college was theater and I was offered an audition at Julliard. Since I have struggled for many years with an autoimmune syndrome known as CREST, this was not an option for me. Once I settled in and focused on my writing though, I did fine.

I am creating a business that specializes in producing informational products for disabled entrepreneurs. I'm going to explain how I got into this field, but be warned, what you are about to read may cause you to question my sanity.

When I was seven years old, my grandfather died of cancer. I didn't comprehend that he was dead really since I didn't go to the funeral. Late the night of his funeral I was walking down the hall way and had started down the stairs when I sensed a bright light emanating from by my parents' door. I looked up to see my grandfather standing there. He was surrounded in this bright light and was looking at me. I noticed that it was as if the light was coming from him, not about him. At the time I didn't understand but was more fascinating by what he told me.

He said that he had brought me news. I was to do something very special with my life and many millions of people would know who I was. My life was to mean something magnificent. But, first I must know that it would take quite a bit of time for this to happen and I would be frustrated by the delay. He then pointed to a picture we had on the wall of Jesus and told me to remember where the important lessons came from. He was then gone and I never saw him again.

I will have to continue this story tomorrow...B