IT IS FINISHED!

Finished.  Started.  Same difference when it comes to writing.  I find that a huge mountain is dominated and conquered when all of my hours and hours, days and weeks, of writing are finally complete and I find myself sitting in front of a completed work.  Finished.

After the victory lap around the city....okay, it's more like a victory nap but let's not be technical about it, the truth sinks in.  This "finish" is actually just the "start".  See, now I have something to work on.  Now I have what could potentially be a load of crap, ready to sift through, weed out, pluck apart, and rebuild into something that is of substance and worth.

That, my friends, is where I am.

Last year, 'Lily of the Valley' was placed on a shelf.  It still sits there to this day.  Perhaps many years from now she will be dusted off and rewritten.  This creation is different.  It's my baby.  This isn't a novel, per-say.  Well, no, it's not per-say at all, it's totally not a novel.  I was a rebel.  This book is my Memoir.  Witty.  Comical.  And the dead-straight truth.  Self-deprecating humor and all.  All the way from busting my face open the day before 3rd grade pictures, to breaking my sister's ribs trying to "fly her" when we were in our twenties.  The good.  The bad.   The ugly.  It's all there.

Now I just have to rework it!