These roses are pretty but my thoughts are not
I'm putting up a last blog post before I head off to my first romance writer/reader convention this weekend. This has been a difficult week with a death in my family and the rising tide of mommy guilt because I'll be away from my son for three days. At this point I'm doubting it's all worth it and I'm afraid I'll come home on Sunday exhausted, impoverished, and completely disillusioned. I'm a planner, and part of planning is anticipating the worst so this could be pessimism talking, but the negative feelings are getting to me and I'm hardly in an excited, anticipatory mood.
Part of my problem is my current WIP is reaching a hard place to write as I'm going to kill off a likable character and this puts my heroine in terrible pain. That's no fun to look forward to, and I haven't figured out how I'm going to get her and the hero to their first sexyfuntime so I don't have that as my reward for writing the sad stuff first. I think I'm going to bring the computer along with me so if the convention is too painful and awkward I can at least hide in the hotel room and get a little writing done. That's delusional I know.
Another part of my problem is my son's birthday is tomorrow and he's growing up. He's already reading, sarcastic, and independent, entirely ready for every day and all the fun it promises. I miss my little boy though.
I told my husband tonight I just need a win, even a little one, and I'll bounce back with some of the determination I depend on to keep me going.