"A Party Without Cake is really just a meeting." --Julia Child
I'm one synopsis and one chapter into the open submissions hopper. My first novel. The one I've been talking about for three decades. The one I'm finally writing--- 35,892 words in, and counting. . .
I turn to the list of authors published after 50--Laura Ingalls Wilder, Frank McCourt, Raymond Chandler... .and I'm hopeful!
I talk to someone in publishing who tells me the forecast looks good. Just keep exercising those muscles! Like anything else worth doing, it takes discipline and perseverance. Lots of it! Which brings me to baking, and how I now find myself battling the bulge--an extra dozen or so pounds put on while happily pursuing one of my favorite hobbies. . .
"Just stop baking," my friends say when I complain of the added lbs. But how to stop doing the very thing that I spend hours each day writing about, dreaming about, thinking about, following Instagram accounts about? No, I blame the full-fat yogurt. Before I give up baking, I plan to give up the full-fat yogurt I've been eating diligently for breakfast for over a year now. Or is it the cup of homemade granola I pile on top of it?
Hallmark is no help either. It's another one of my indulgences and the channel that's on most days in our home. Every other movie is about a bakery or baking cookies or a girl from the city who finds ultimate happiness making Instagram-worthy cupcakes in a small shop in a town like ours.
