For many writers, life took an extreme detour in 2020, and all the re-calibrating, refocusing, and reassessing to locate the path back to normalcy… and writing, were simple exercises in futility.

Some have made it back. Some still struggle.

While my journey was similar, it began nearly a year before the Pandemic with the deaths of my husband and mother.

Two amazing therapists, plus meditation, journaling and medication, helped me through my grief.

But not so much with writing. The words still eluded me. Plots wouldn’t come together. Characters were flat. Blank pages mocked me.

Without Den and Mom, my two biggest cheerleaders, rallied behind me, spurring me on, I couldn’t hold it together long enough to write a paragraph. I haven’t even been able to write a review for any of the 273 books I read up to mid-2023.

Back to Therapyville I went.

My stay there wasn’t as long this time. Fewer tears and no meds… just talking it through.

Did it help? Well, I am getting book reviews written.

As for my books? We’ll see.

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