Both of my parents were born in April, as were my oldest son and two of my grandkids. That same son married my beloved daughter-in-law 31 years ago on the 30th. I am grateful beyond measure.
But this is a writing blog, isn't it, and my writing life hasn't been quite so enriched in past years. While I'm happy for those who've had great years and who are embracing the changes I can't quite keep up with--actually, there's no "quite" to it; I can't keep up, period--I've spend most of the past several years wondering about my place in publishing. In the inimitable words of Clash, "Should I stay or should I go?"
Of course, it was never a real tossup. I'm staying. Probably until they withdraw the mouse from my cold, dead hand. But I've talked about quitting so much my friend Nan rolls her eyes and my husband completely ignores me. (He does that on other occasions, too, but we're not talking about that today.)
So I did what writers always do. I asked my friends what it was like for them.
The whole idea is terrifying."