When my father saw on social media that I had published my second book he couldn’t stop himself from asking the inevitable question, “Where did you find time to write a second book?”
The question, especially in regards to the second book, makes me giggle a bit. I have infinitely more time to write the second than I did the first yet people are still left shocked. I wrote Disillusioned Love while finishing my undergrad degree, planning my wedding, working full-time, and managing family life. To have written Riana’s Cavatina just between work and family seems much more do-able.
The general response I have for those who question my time management skills is that you make time to do what you love. I still battle with the fact that other things are often left to wait while I take time to do what I love (the mountain of laundry in my family room is testament to these decisions) but I’m working on allowing myself happiness and joy in doing what I truly love. This is also how Kajia and I find time to do horseback riding lessons. Or why we always have an endless supply of crafting and art material in the house — because we love to create.
This ability to make time is also crucial in relationships. Life can be hectic and we often find ourselves disengaged in relationships, taking advantage of the idea that they’ll always just be there. But that can leave people feeling unappreciated and resentful. Over the years my friendships have drastically dwindled. I’m pretty sure I sucked as a human being for many years and didn’t manage friendships well. I have some great acquaintances, people who’s company I enjoy, but I’ve been pretty incapable of forming deep friendships for many years now. I’ve become more introverted, more recluse, more wary of trusting others with my insecurities. I always thought I’d have certain friends forever–that our connection would always defy distance and time–but I’ve come to realize I was wrong. And that hurts. My own emotional state can’t seem to accept that time just changes people and relationships, not with her. I see that fact easily with people from high school, and it doesn’t bother me. But her…it leaves me absolutely heartbroken.
…So… since I know that Disillusioned Love was written largely as a distraction from pain, I’m going to attempt to funnel this new pain into Dissonant Love (Sonata of Love Series Book 3).
It’s so strange. I can’t help but sit here and wonder what happened to the depths of relationships? Everything seems so superficial now — everything is about likes and retweets and numbers. I crave long talks, substance, debate, intellect, passion. In a world so interconnected, I’m not sure I’ve ever felt so alone.