I’ve been on hiatus as a professional writer for three years in Babyland. I’m ready to spread those wings again.
So before I left for my vacation, I wrote out a clear concise plan for getting my career off the ground. It had lists of markets to submit to, with their upcoming submission deadlines and notes about the articles I’d like to write for them. It was a rare gasp of organizational skill. A breakthrough in my normal haze of creative chaos.
But I’m still me, so I wrote this all out on the back of a green index card, which I left on my desk so it would be waiting for me to begin work on when I got home.
When I got back to my desk the card was gone.
I’ve found half a dozen green index cards, identical to the one I outlined my career plan on except… each one is covered with Rio’s drawings or Serena’s scribbles.
It’s hard to read much into those wiggly black lines, but I think the Universe might be trying to tell me something about how good the timing is to move some of my energy away from mothering towards writing.
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