Vacations...Coming Home

Why does coming home after a long vacation feel so surreal? My husband and I came home from Banff, Canada this past weekend. We had a marvelous time, but I'd been away from my writing long enough to pause and ask, "Why do I do what I do?" Why struggle every day to get the words right? I certainly don't do it for the money. And not for the fame...that one is so fleeting it can whiz by like a dragonfly if it ever comes at all. So, why? I could do something else with my life. And yet. I've been writing for 25 years, and I can not imagine anything else. Even on a day when I can't seem to string two words together I still have the desire to write. I want to tell stories. I suppose even in the womb I had a story. I would have told you about my mother's cradling warmth, the otherworldly sensations of floating, and our heartbeats speeding up together as I took my plunge into a new world of light and color and faces! So, my vacation gave me more than a getaway. It gave me perspective. I guess I was born to write...even on days when I can't write. And if you've taken the time to read my books or any of my ponderings...I thank you most kindly.

Anita