There are days when I consciously make the decision to wear blinders. This doesn’t mean I’m oblivious to what’s happening around me or uncaring. It simply means I choose not to focus on things I cannot control. Just one of my particular coping mechanisms.
Like everyone with a feeling heart, I am horrified by the events that took place in Orlando this weekend.
As a woman, I’m angry about the flaws in our judicial system and the misogyny we allow to permeate our society.
I’m fearful for our country’s political future, and frankly, giving a good number of my fellow Americans the side eye.
And, as ever, I’m worried about my husband / children / siblings / nieces / nephews / greats / grands / dog / and even the baby birds in my hanging baskets (which, is amazing in itself if you know how I feel about birds).
In other words, this:
All of the above are reasons why I choose fiction. The very essence of why I choose to read and write romantic fiction. I need stories with happy endings. Otherwise, I’d be a quivering mass of fear and worry and hopelessness.
This weekend, I hid out in my imaginary world quite a bit. You know what happened there? This:
So, I’m going to focus on this piece of positivity for the next week or two, then I will send it off into the loving embrace of my extraordinary editor.
How about you? Did anything good happen in your little corner of the world this weekend?