I Almost Forgot I Was a Writer

It's been three weeks since I've touched my MS or read something for my critique partners. I haven't even thought about my MS. Haven't read any writing blogs. Barely have I solcialized with my twitter writer peeps. I've barely even read a book! Between kids being home for summer and vacations, writing times are tough. Now that I am home, I will try to resume to normal. ("Try" being the operative word. Until kids are out of my hair, that may be near impossible.)

Being away from my craft for so long, I almost forgot I was a writer. It's a silly notion to think one could forget. It's like leaving house without your shoes. Not likely but possible. How do you forget? It's this thing called life and it can get carried away and keep preoccupied.

Now that I am home and I have three seconds to ponder my story a bit, this warm fuzzy feeling stirs in my gut. I get a little tingly thinking about what I need to sit down a work on next. This tiny realization rushes over me as I remember... I'm a writer. It feels like home, to settle myself firmly into a writing frame of mind. Like burrowing your feet deeply into the warm sandy beach and knowing this is the place you really want to be.

How about you, do you ever forget you are writer?