So, it's been nearly three months since I wrote. Summer is over, writing conferences were completed, school has begun, and there's a chance we've survived the first stomach virus of the season. The vote is still out on the stomach virus, and while a recount may be necessary, I feel certain that someday we will all be healthy again.
School began at the end of August. Nine weeks later, this year has proven to be the most difficult and most rewarding one so far. I've finally settled in at LHS; I have a place; I am a piece of the community now. This also means that I'm now taken advantage of, overused, overworked, required too much of, and taken for granted by those who know me, my philosophy of education, and my dedication to the students above all else. I stand by my conviction that I will not retire from teaching and plan to move on from education within 5 to 10 years of beginning at LHS. However, I'm starting to feel like I belong and finally have a place where I'm needed.
My writing has officially been on hiatus since my return from Hindman. I know this is not how it should have been. I know that I now have three novels in progress; none of which have been completed. I have also not fulfilled the pledge I made at Hindman to my fellow writers to submit, submit, submit my short stories and actually begin working on my writing career. I have not put the energy into my writing career that is necessary to achieve my aforementioned goal of leaving the world of education in my wake. I have to wonder why this is so.
Firstly, I love my job. I love the children. I love making a difference. Is it possible that I've not put everything into my writing because I'm more content that even I realize where I am? Also, I've long believed that while I have some talent in writing I will never believe I am quite good enough to actually get paid or get published. Is it possible that I've not put everything into my writing because I'm afraid I'm not good enough?
Either way, once again I am making a commitment to my writing. November arrives in just over 14 hours, which means for the next month I will be writing a novel. Yes, I'm starting a new novel. This will be number four. Part of me says this is a futile effort. Writing a novel in a month does not a manuscript make. It will take hours and hours of editing and rewriting to even begin to have something that is ready to be sent out, and that will come after I've spent the entire month of November writing the darn thing. Part of me says this is the right step. At least I'll be writing again. Maybe this time, not only will I reach my 50K goal, but I will also reach the end of the novel.
After November, I will begin the ever present task of writing whatever I am going to use to apply to writing workshops next summer. I again plan on attending the same two I attended last year. Anyone who has any reason to give me anything between now and then might want to consider $$ since I'm not sure where I will come up with the $1300 to attend next year. I will get these things done, because I have done them in the past. This year though, I hope to continue afterwards. I hope to continue working towards a dream that is more than a dream, but more of a destination I hope to reach.
