Christmas at Easter

When you’re a writer with a full-time job at the far end of a 35-mile commute, you quickly learn that there’s no such thing as “spare” time. In order to add to my word count, I often wake two hours early, spend lunchtime writing in my car (while shoving a sandwich down my throat), and sacrifice every evening and weekend to the God of the Sacred Keyboard.

We just had Christmas at Easter, and I feel the need to explain why. It took November through February to prepare for my debut release. There were social media outlets to set up, a cover reveal party, swag to order or make, a book trailer to produce, and most importantly, two rounds of edits before my book baby went out into the big, bad world. February and March were then spent obsessing over sales, rank, and reviews, not to mention two blog tours. Seriously, I’s been busy. And my neighbors, whose gifts have been sitting on my kitchen island since early December, live ALL THE WAY ACROSS THE DRIVEWAY.

At long last, I have given my sweet neighbor, Donna, her Christmas presents. Here we are, pictured with something I find very symbolic of my life as a writer. (Donna didn’t fall into a coconut crème pie, by the way. I blurred her face to spare her the embarrassment of displaying Christmas bags in a restaurant parking lot. At Easter.) If you look closely, you will see that Donna is holding an amaryllis, a bulb meant to flower in time for Christmas. Hers bloomed all right—in the gift-wrapped box. Then, it died. I still gave it to her, because I wanted to prove that her presents had been carefully selected in December, even though the rest of her Irish-themed gifts looked like I’m some el cheapo who merely grabbed a few things off the St. Paddy’s Day clearance table.

Donna

I used to be early for everything. I was the one who had lists for her lists. My house was spotless, my laundry always clean. I even found time to visit on occasion! Then, I became a writer, and everything went to hell. Still, there is some satisfaction in knowing that as frantic as my real life is, some beautiful things are rising out of the chaos.

If you’re an artist, how do you balance your two worlds?

Just for fun, let’s give away two of these little soapy soldiers. They’re made with olive, coconut, palm, and castor oils, plus shea butter. Scented with ginger and clary sage essential oils with the tiniest amount of fragrance oil. Decadent bar meant to be used – the image stays until the soap is gone!

After you jump through the hoops, make sure you hit the back button and click the “I CLICKED” button so Rafflecopter knows you complied.

soap

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Fiction That's Plaid to the Bone

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