Sitting down to write makes me feel like I have to run a mile.

My mind working fast, wondering if I missed a period at the end of a sentance And then I go back and realize that there could be a plot hole somewhere…all the way back in Chapter 1.

I worry that any potential fans of my series will give up, think that she’s gone, just another content creator who doesn’t create content (would they be wrong?), and my image, the book’s image, and the image of myself in my own mind, becomes the top priority. Instead of creating a beautiful story, I leave it alone, unattended. Until I come back and wonder if I still care.

During my break, I think I made myself continue the long break from writing when I realized that my life doesn’t need to revolve around this. I am a simple person, and I enjoy small, simple things in life. And I think that’s okay, as long as I don’t never write again.

The reason why the thought of never writing another book terrifies me, is because I see a life moving past this season of my life, and it looks pleasant. No fuss about publishing books and welcoming potential criticism and/or recognitions. No worrying about deadlines, or marketing.

Writing is supposed to be something I enjoy.

So I made a promise to myself. I will write as long as I enjoy it. Maybe my series, The Hidden Jewel Series, will be it. If that’s so, then so be it…I will always love storytelling, character development, and reading books. But if I’m not in love with writing stories forever…well, maybe that is part of me growing up.

I’ve been writing books since I was 15 years old. I think those chapters of my life should come to a close sooner rather than later. But I’m not giving up. I’m just promising myself to only write as long as I enjoy it.

Forcing yourself to do something because you feel obligated, while there is no reason to, deadline to make, or consequence if you do not do that thing…well, you are lying to yourself.

And I refuse to lie to myself.