The glue

The glue was stuck on my fingers. The goblet I glued the rhinestone back onto looked fabulous but I could still feel the residue on my finger hours later.

That's what writing is like for me. It's the glue I used to put myself back together, but the residue is always there.

In my books, as a narrator, I'm whole, complete and relatively well adjusted. In real life, I'm tired, anxious, melodramatic and tend to perseverate. That's not to say I'm not happy, because I am. It's just the older I get, the more I obsess. Over little things, over big things, and over things that a week later won't matter. I find it hard to be in the present moment and often think to myself, am I really present at all? I'm always in my head, in the future, and in the past.

Writing helps. It's a healthy coping mechanism along with coffee. Writing quiets that nagging voice in my head. Writing allows me to be the person I want to be in the world. We all have a public and private side. My public side is in my books, and in my podcast. I try to be literary, erudite, passionate and kind and though I know I don't always succeed, I try.

So dear reader, I guess what I'm trying to say is, find your glue. Whether it's reading, family, religion, love or like me, writing, just find it. And fall into it. Lose yourself and your ego in it. Find your bliss.