Fresh Happiness 101

I’m a writer. It’s what I do. I’ve done it since I was old enough to hold a pencil and be ashamed of what I was writing. Seriously. See the photo.

Lately, I’ve felt that the universe was yawning at me, acting as if I don’t exist in terms of writing. My agent dumped me; for those who’ve ever been with a literary agent, it’s sort of like a marriage: you look for just the right person, the one who will appreciate you for who you are, and who will watch your back, who will love, honor, cherish you, and take fifteen percent of your gross. But then, marriages sometimes sour. My agent broke up with me via email. Downsizing. Ouch.

So, even though I’ve been writing a lot of fiction, I decided I wanted to write something that is specifically just for me. Something that I don’t need to sell, and that no one really needs to read unless they want to. It’s going to be about writing, and teaching, and parenting, and life. It’s going to be about whatever the hell I want to write about, regardless of the market. I might even post some novel pieces here, just so somebody can read them. Although, I have started to feel like no one is reading anymore. Is  this true? I’m still reading. But my newspaper is smaller every day, and Newsweek is smaller every week, and now everybody is reading e-books, and….maybe I’m just getting old.

I’ll try to make it funny sometimes. Or at least worth reading. But if you don’t read it, whatever. I’m going to write it anyway. I decided to call it FRESH HAPPINESS because I wanted it simply have the joy of writing, no pressure, no need to impress or please or sell or market.  So that’s what it will be. If I feel that it is written correctly, it is. No other opinion necessary. I am hoping it will give me fresh happiness, since my supply is critically low.