Hardened Hearts austins-apology  shadowed-secrets  guarding-greatness 
       

Hi. My name is Lena

Hi. My name is Lena. I’m a procrastinator. Also known as: an author with writer’s block.

How do I know? Because, for the last three months, each and every time I’ve sat down in front of a computer, all of the ideas that had plagued me in the shower, on the drive to work, in the grocery store, during my favorite TV shows – they all disappear. I open the laptop, I pull up the current file and then… Well, it turns out there is an abandoned Marine Hospital in Illinois that I want to buy one day. There’s also an abandoned church in Michigan, a haunted hotel in Columbia, and an apricot orchard in California all just begging for me to turn into my personal hide-away from the world. I can tell you every FAQ and Trivia fact listed on IMDB.com for the last seven movies I’ve watched. Oh, and depending on which website you check out, I can tell you that the name Lena is either Hebrew for Woman of Magdala or Greek for The Bright One.

This doesn’t mean that I haven’t been writing at all. Actually, I’ve been writing a lot about the last Teams member in the series. I’ve drafted two outlines to some of the forthcoming Culver siblings. I’ve even written two grocery lists, and a list of things to get cleaned/fixed/painted around the house. Chances are though, none of that counts.

Maybe it’s just this one project that has me stumped. Austin, who yes, still needs a title, and a book cover, and an editor (look at that – another list of things to do has been drafted) is for the most part complete. There was a small portion that has to be rewritten but as I stalled in the process (I think, somewhere around the Michigan church) I realized, it’s not just this one project. I’d done the same thing with Harper and Harrison in Hardened Hearts. The closer to finishing the book and typing out the words “The End”, the harder it was to sit down and commit.

In the end, it took a bottle of Moscato, a dark room, a slice of New York cheesecake, and a whole lot of tears before I was able to actually write the epilogue and put Hardened Hearts to bed. It seems I have a pattern when I write my books. The question is: How do I learn to let go without wasting almost a year searching for the end of the internet?

Well… it’s one of the questions anyway. The others could be – how did I not think twice about drinking a whole bottle of wine in one setting by myself? I don’t even like apricots, why would I buy a whole orchard of them? Even better, how could I even contemplate buying a haunted hotel in another country when I’m afraid of the dark, and don’t even like crossing state lines to visit my family? Those sound like problems to solve another time. For now, I have a book to finish… and a bottle of wine to buy.