The HEA Cafe

I know because I have a lot of stuff due. A revision that’s not cooperating, a blog today–oh that’s this one–a blog on my own blog–that’s easy–I got pages yesterday so I plan to boast! But the thing I want to talk about is how panic reaches for us as we try to do our best.

I wonder how you react to it? Are you and I the same? Can you feel it out there, reaching for you with long arms–electrified arms? I’m picturing a cross between a squid and a Barbara Cartland-type boa, each feather charged like a taser, because I sure get a jolt every time one soft frond brushes against me.

I’m working every day and night on the revision, but the book was so off the first time that I’m suffering from self-doubt. You’ve met Self-Doubt? Panic’s heinous stepsister? So, I’m writing this couple and I’m trying to fill my own heart with the ache of their need to be together. I see them dancing as I am with Panic, but they get to have a happily ever after if I’m just good enough for them as a writer.

I’m doing the other stuff, too, showing up at the blog, slipping only the occasional note into the notebook I wasn’t supposed to take to the air show the other day, chatting away at dinner last night, even though my only thoughts were for my hero and heroine, who are not aching quite enough yet.

So, what do you do with Self-Doubt and Panic? I’m ignoring doubt. Giving in would be crazy if I intend to reach the happily ever after I need as much as my hero and heroine.

And what do you do with Panic? I’m circling. Occasionally, I give my companion a little shove, without actually acknowledging it’s there, without letting it touch me. We’re dancing, and it’s not pretty, but I have no time for panic. Gotta get to that HEA!