Writing A Wrong (Write Stuff 2)

"I talked to Remi yesterday," Jillian piped in. "She filled me in on some of the details of the overseas tour starting March first. They're throwing a lot of money at that one."

"So I'm told." My response came out with more bite than I intended, but I remained smiling, just in case. I didn't want to seem ungrateful for the opportunity. Any author at our table would gladly trade spots with me. As a matter of fact, I had peers who would kill for an all-expense trip to Europe where you and your books would be featured, and yet, I couldn't decide if I even wanted to go. Complaining about it would make me look like the biggest asshole ever.

"Wow, you're going overseas now too?" Amy, one of the other authors, whistled. "I'd love to go to London, but damn that's a lot of travel. I've been gone for two days and I'm already itching to be home. I'm such a homebody. I like working in my pajamas every day and hiding from anyone who knocks on my door."

We all laughed, completely relating to her assessment. Working from home had its perks. I sat back in my chair, listening to everyone chatter about their different writing rituals and it made me realize how long it had been since I opened up my laptop. It was like they had doused my head with a bucket of cold water. Somewhere along the way between motion sickness on the Love Bus and dealing with relationship issues, I had lost touch with what I loved doing the most. Weeks had gone by since I looked at my current manuscript. My well of inspiration had dried up. Add to that a trip to the UK and I wouldn't even know how to begin again. For the first time in years, I didn't feel like a writer at all.

When I signed a publishing contract, I never considered that I would lose my passion for writing. Not that it was the publisher's fault. It wasn't anyone's fault. If you would have asked me a year ago where I wanted to be as an author, I'm not sure I could have imagined the level of success I was now achieving, and yet, something about it scared me. I sat lost in my swirling thoughts, searching for the right answer. The problem being, there was no right answer.

The next day I spent some time with Jillian, shopping for the UK trip. The great thing about having Jillian as an agent was that even though she had a reputation as a pit bull when it came to negotiations, she really seemed to care about the personal lives of the authors she represented. I expressed my thoughts about my upcoming travel schedule and my feelings about losing touch with my writing. She offered her advice and was as understanding as I expected, stating that she would support me no matter what decision I made. Regardless, we continued to shop since my wardrobe from the Love Bus tour felt tired and worn. I had been recycling all the same outfits. Thank god for hotel dry cleaning. My plan was to buy some new things for the Europe trip and send the rest of my clothes home with Mom.

Jillian and I enjoyed the fortunate beautiful day of weather as we shopped, but a couple hours later, I ended up back at my hotel pretty much empty-handed. My heart just didn't seem to be in it. I reasoned that when Mom joined me the following day we could go shopping together. That was basically the point of her coming to the West Coast. That and our planned day trip to Forks.

I spent the evening in my room watching a marathon of Breaking Bad on TV, never even considering pulling out my laptop. My feeling was that until I got my head together, it would be a wasted effort.

Mom met me at baggage claim the next morning with her typical display of excitement until she took a look at my face."You look tired, honey."

"Hello to you too," I teased, giving her a tight hug. If it were up to me, I wouldn't have let go.

"Are you eating right? Sleeping enough? Taking your vitamins?" she rattled off, holding me at arm's length as she studied my features.

"Probably not, fair, and yes," I laughed, answering all three of her questions. I was thrilled to finally have her here. "I've missed you," I added, giving her another hug.

"Me too, sweetie. Your brothers and father are so disappointed your trip was extended, but don't think we are not extremely proud of you. You're turning into a big star right in front of our eyes."

"Not as disappointed as me," I grumbled, grabbing the handle of her suitcase. "You know what sucks the most is all the plans Olivia and I made. I feel like such a traitor going without her."

"She understands," Mom reassured me as we walked.

"I know. She was so supportive on the phone. It's just the trip was supposed to be our thing." Olivia and I had talked on the phone about the UK trip the first day I arrived in Seattle. She wouldn't be able to go because of some work-related issues, but she sounded thrilled for me nonetheless.

"You two still can go next year. Just think, you'll be a little more familiar after going yourself, and then you can show her all the places you discover."

That was Mom. The optimist in our family. She was a firm believer that the cup was always half full. Usually I was the same way, but recently I discovered I had become quite the Negative Nelly.

I didn't comment right away, waiting until she got herself situated in the passenger seat of the midsized sedan I rented for the trip. "Is it wrong that I'm not even excited about going overseas? I'd rather visit the orthodontist and have my braces put back on."

She patted my hand with a wide smile spreading across her thin face. I loved Mom's smile so much. It always held the power to light up any room. Dad liked to say Mom had fifteen different smiles and each one was beautiful in its own way. "A visit to see Dr. Steve for the dreaded metal you detested over a place you've always dreamed going to. It must be serious."

"I'm ready to come home, Mom. I miss all of you so much that I physically ache. I haven't seen my cat in months, and I almost lost the man I love. I feel like I'm on one of those spinning tunnels at the county fair. It keeps going round and round, but I'm not going anywhere. I'm sick of hotels and eating by myself, and I haven't been able to write every day like I love." I exhaled, practically dumping the words on her lap.

She sat quietly as we pulled up to the front of the hotel. A sharply dressed bellhop opened Mom's door before scrambling to the trunk to retrieve our bags.

"Okay, I need details," Mom said as I closed the door to our room after tipping the bellhop for bringing our bags. "What do you mean you almost lost the man you love?" She lowered herself into one of the cute upholstered chairs that sat on either side of a small cocktail table.

I plopped down in the matching chair and sighed, not even knowing where to begin. It only seemed right to tell her everything—my commitment issues during the holidays, my jealousy over Candace, and finally, my kiss with Greg. Mom sat silently as I exposed all the sordid details of the past several months.

"Honey, you're being too hard on yourself," she said after I ran out of steam. "A lot has happened to you in the last year. You met a wonderful young man, signed a multi-book publishing deal, traveled across the country to one event after another, and appeared on TV. That's an awful lot happening outside your normal comfort zone. You've always been a homebody. You like being with your things and following the same routine. I gotta tell you, sweetheart, as your mother, I'm proud of how well you have adapted to this tour." I opened my mouth to argue with her, but she held up her hand. "No, listen to me. Anyone would have struggled with being on the road as long as you have, but you made it

work."

"I kissed another man and almost lost Alec in the process. What does that say about me? I'm a dirty whore."

She laughed. "Nonsense. You're human, not a dirty whore. I'll never condone cheating when you make a commitment, but I also know things happen. When the jealousy beast takes over, things get ugly. Take my word for it."

The way she talked sounded like she had firsthand experience. During the summer, she and Dad had celebrated their twenty-seventh wedding anniversary. Anyone who knew my parents could attest to their unbreakable bond. I couldn't even imagine a scenario where either of them had strayed. The idea was ludicrous. "Is that your way of telling me you and Dad are dirty whores?" I was teasing, of course, expecting her to laugh, but she shifted in her seat without answering. "Mom!" I said, gaping at her.

"Mom," she mocked. "It was a long time ago, sweetie. You weren't even a blip on the radar. Your father and I were young once too. We made mistakes, but we learned from them. We found out the hard way how to respect each other. It's not something we're necessarily proud of, but we both feel that getting through those dark times is what has helped us maintain a strong relationship. It'll be the same for you and Alec. That is if you don't still have commitment fears. If so, that might be a sign that something else is wrong."