Although my dog, Paix, looks like he’s posing, I promise this was a candid.
There you have it, beach living.
This is the scene we’ve been playing out in our house lately – only I’m usually the one on the sofa:
And any quiet reading I might be catching up on, gets put aside when someone (not me!) turns on the telly to get an update on The Olympics Games. (Sky Sport seems to have a gazillion dedicated Olympics channels.)
I am writing this as a person that has just jumped, excited and terrified, into a new life. I have just taken a risk, and it might be the first risk I’ve ever taken in my entire life. Yes, I think it is.
I quit my “real” job — never mind what that job is, for now — to take a year off and live by the ocean and write. I have another “real” job — never mind what that job is, for now — to have time to look at sunrises and sunsets, moonrises and moonsets, and to have time to write and write more. My new “real” job is so that I can also eat. I heard that writers have to eat, too, and so I have a job that will sustain my basic needs without draining all of my creative energy.
The good news is, I am already a “real” author! I wrote a book, called, One Hand Waving Free, and it’s a good book. I’m a very modest person, so I needed at least 35 people to tell me how great it was before I said to myself, “It really is good.” And now that people, real people, have actually purchased it (with real money), I am truly an author.
I fondle my published book daily. I smell the pages. I stare at it in wonder, and I read it critically. Like many writers, I didn’t write it to sell it. I wrote it only to tell a story. Now I want to share that story.
It doesn’t come naturally to me to sell myself, but here is the plug: One Hand Waving Free by Ellen Hofmann, available on Amazon for Kindle and in paperback and on Barnes and Noble Nook.