I've written before about dwelling on things, not being able to let things go even when holding onto them is painful. The fact that I am indeed one who dwells is one of my husband's least favorite things about me. It's one of my least favorite things about me.
So, on the heels of a winter that seems to have gone on for...oh, Lord, years, with illness in my family and grief and sadness waiting around every corner in my mind, I'm working at being healthier in all those corners.
I've fallen a lot lately, so I went to rehab to get a "Gate" evaluation, where I aced 56 out of 56 challenges. Next week I'm having my ears checked because balance may be part of the problem. I'm also trying to concentrate on...concentrating. And picking up my feet. And not hurrying.
Color is always my friend. My favorite quilts,
paintings, and book covers are the most colorful ones. Springtime brings color with it. And joy.
I can't say that I had a real purpose in this post, other than perhaps that I'm reminding myself of what I owe the people who read my books. Readers expect different things from different writers. From me they expect some angst, some getting better by working at it, and lots of color. They expect the people in my books to come out on the other side, not to dwell on what they can't change.
If you're a writer, what do you think you owe your readers? If you're a reader, what do you expect from the author when you open a book?