I owe you all a huge apology.
I have no excuse except to say life got in the way.
I initially started writing fanfiction as a hobby, a way to pass the time while my husband was away for work. I didn’t have children, though I had two very energetic dogs, and a big lonely house all to myself. My family live out of state and my friends…well, let’s just say I didn’t have friends of my own. I had “couples” friends.
I was miserable and didn’t know it.
It was my brother-in-law that suggested I read the Sookie Stackhouse novels and watch True Blood. He had a thing for Anna Paquin. I remember reading the first eight novels within a few days and binged the first four seasons of the show to get ready for Season 5. I honestly can’t say what appealed to me . . . well, I can. Let’s face it, if you read this blog, you love ASkars. But it was something beyond the pretty face and hot body. I had this sense of wrongness when I read the books and watched the show. I’ve never felt so strongly about another series as I did this one.
Does that make sense?
I guess it does since there are thousands of works of fanfiction out there trying to “fix” what we all see wrong in the books and TV show.
I wrote my first story, Resolutions, just to see if I could do it. It was OK, nothing to set the world on fire.
And then I started A Different Life . . .
I never expected the reaction it got. Many of you adored it; some of you flamed it. I read it now and cringe because I know I could have done better. That story was my true introduction into the world of fanfiction. I have met some wonderful people because of my “vampire smut” (husband’s words, not mine). I wouldn’t trade those friendships for anything. There are dozens more of you that I will never meet, but I feel a sense of connection with because we shared the same purpose, the same interests. I’m grateful for all of you too.
The more I wrote, the more I involved myself in fanfiction, the more miserable I was in real life.
Fanfiction was an escape. I could write my happy ending. I could murder someone when I was having a truly awful day. It was a way of me coping with my utter loneliness and the dissolution of my marriage. How else could I have churned out 8 chapters a week to keep multiple stories going at a time?
It’s humbling to know I was a cliché.
Let’s face it, we all think we can change a man. He won’t make the same mistakes with us that he made in a previous relationship. I was young and stupid. Of course he did the same thing to me that he did to his first wife. I fully expect him to do the same thing to his third wife as he did to me.
But that’s neither here nor there.
The end of my marriage was a blessing and a curse.
It was a blessing because I found who I am again. I’m me now, not a Mrs. or “Scott’s wife”. I’m Jessica. It’s good to be me again. I realized I can stand on my own, and don’t have to rely on someone else for financial support. He made me think that I wouldn’t survive alone, and he even took enjoyment thinking I would financially crumble. Joke’s on him since I have doubled my salary since our divorce, been promoted to a member of senior management, and enjoy a sense of financial freedom I never had with him.
I’m also blessed in that I’ve met a wonderful man who fits me in a way my ex-husband never did. He’s a compliment to me, a true partner. He also gave me the chance to be a mom since I can’t have kids. I don’t think I can ever thank him enough for that. Instead of putting down my writing, my man is in awe of the fact that I can create so much. Maybe one day I’ll let him read my stories….or maybe not. I think I like keeping this side away from him. It’s something that’s truly mine and no one else can lay claim to it. Well, except for my awesome beta Kleannhouse. She can lay claim to some of it. She still betas for me now even though I haven’t written anything in years. I have about 20 emails to go through and fix things in stories that are already published.
As for the curse of my divorce….I lost my Indy. My beautiful, energetic, sweet, stupid yellow lab. I still cry when I think of him. I’m crying now. He is the only thing I regret losing in my divorce. The material possessions I sold to start my life over. The house I walked away from so I wouldn’t be financially ruined. But losing that dog….it breaks my heart still.
I also lost my motivation to write. Maybe it’s because I’m so busy living life now that I just don’t have time to write, or maybe it’s because I’m happy with my life that I don’t have the desire to immerse myself in someone else’s life. I don’t know. I just know that I have ideas on how the stories should end, but can’t seem to put the pen to paper to make the ideas come out.
So forgive me. I once promised that I wouldn’t leave my stories unfinished, but that seems to be a promise I can no longer keep. I could put out some inferior bullshit just to say I’ve finished them, but I don’t want to do it. That’s not fair to me and certainly not fair to you. Maybe one day I’ll sit down and write again. Who knows? But the drive and fire aren’t there like they used to be. I would be writing from the time the sun came up, scribbling bits and pieces at work, and then back at it again once I was home. Now, the idea of writing is exhausting with everything else going on in my life.
To all of you wonderful people, thank you from the bottom of my heart. You will never know how much I appreciate all of you for helping me find myself again. You made me realize that I could brighten someone else’s day with a few written words, and your reviews and friendship kept me going when I was miserable.
I cannot thank you enough for all you did, but it’s time I say good-bye. I’ll leave the site up but I don’t think I will post again.