Writing

What a weekend. It was wonderful having a 3 day weekend. I've spent much of my working life working every holiday and most weekends. It's the nature of what I do. This is the first job in awhile I've worked M-F and had holidays off. How I love it! The pay is crap, like most rewarding jobs...that's why you really have to love it. Uhh I digress....

So this weekend, I FINALLY started writing again. This time I am writing the story of Brittany and how it all came to be. I've decided to leave out my being gay, because if it is ever published, I do not want that to be the focus and I know damn well it would be. I've finally got the bug again...

I am still trying, though I've put it on the back burner for now, to get my other book published. For future reference, it is called THE PURSE....here is a synopsis:

Lydia Blackwell is a 38 year old therapist and lesbian. Raised in a mansion outside of Chicago by a her father, William, a prominent stock broker and businessman, a hispanic housekeeper/nanny and a butler. Lydia's mother died in a fiery car crash when Lydia was 3 years old. As the story opens, Lydia rushes to her father's bedside. It was only a matter of time before the cancer took over. He apologizes for not being the father he should have been. Even though Lydia has kept her sexuality hidden from her father, he tells her, "...never be ashamed of who you are or even....who it is you love." Then suddenly, William Blackwell tells her "...your mother, she's alive." and then Lydia's father is gone forever. Lydia dismisses this confession as a man delirious with disease until she overhears the housekeeper and butler, who are her surrogate parents, talking about the big secret. At her father's funeral, Lydia meets a man who, through some prodding from Lydia, admits that he and William were lovers for many years. The man gives Lydia a stunning silver beaded purse. Little does Lydia know, there are people after this trinket, including a mob family, who are more connected to Lydia than she knows. Once Lydia finds her mother, a whole other world opens up...long held secrets her mother thought were long ago buried rise again. Suddenly, Lydia's whole world is turned upside down after she realizes the people she'd trusted her entire life have let her down. No one is who they seem and THE PURSE holds answers and even more questions.

Of course, there is more to this story. It took me 4 years to write this book. Life happens but it was during the writing of this book that I realized what I want to do with my life. It's funny how I got this idea too. My ex gf in Wyoming, D, I shall call her...brought out this slinky purse, kind of 20s style...I'm sure an antique. She told me her grandmother found it in a drawer and threw it at her saying, "I don't know where this came from...your drunken grandfather probably won it in a poker game for all I know." It had a family crest embedded on it. I started thinking then...wouldn't it be a story for this purse to be passed on from person to person. Lordy, everything's a story to me! Then I thought about D. Her mother died when she was 3, of diabetes. The woman was only 26 years old. But in my twisted mind, I thought, "Wouldn't it be crazy if they just told her that her mother died and she's really walking around somewhere?"
That's where the story started and it evolved into something I never expected or planned on.

I've read the book to Cindy and she read some too....but she's not a reader and doesn't care that much for fiction. But as she was reading it, she got involved with the characters. There were a couple of people I worked with in Wyoming that read it and couldn't believe I wrote it HAHA
There was a publisher interested out of Denver...but they changed owners and it fell through the cracks. But one of these days....it will be out there.

But the story on Brittany is non-fiction, so I think more than anything, it will be the one. And it's a story I want to share. Everytime I tell it, people can't believe it really happened and what both Brittany and I went through.

What can I say....I am an incurable dreamer....