A Banner Day

I've quit writing a hundred times. Probably more, because it's broken my heart at least a thousand times.

But today was NOT one of those days.

Today is a banner day for me. One as big for me as the day I first held my children. And a day that I thought would never come when I began my first book, seven years ago this week in snowy Vladivostok, Russia.

I came home after a terrible 12 hour day at my day job to find that for December and January, I have earned more from writing than I earned from said day job.

I can't believe it.

I remember sitting in my hotel room while Max slept and bounding out the beginings of my first novel. I never finished that book, but I still have it. It is a story near and dear to my heart and I hope someday I will be a good enough writer to do justice to it.

I put it away years ago and started another story that became my novel, Coming Home.

I never thought much about making money. I started writing because I had a story to tell, not because I ever thought it would make me rich and famous. I've kept writing for all of these years because I learned just because you've told one story, doesn't mean another isn't right around the corner of your mind.