“Writing is like driving at night in the fog. You can only see as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.”  — E.L. Doctorow

So, yeah, Doctorow was talking about writing and, while I’ve certainly felt that way in penning my own novel, right now these words are encompassing my whole life. They’ve niggled into every corner of my existence and, while I know, “you can make the whole trip” with not but a set of headlights, it’d sure be nice if I weren’t driving a rusted 1971 Pinto, exhaust dragging the pavement, and a Gulf size oil leak.  Don’t even get me started about the headlights themselves.  The bulbs are cracked and covered with a layer of deep red clay dust. I think one is definitely on the fritz because it’s blinking like a firefly’s ass on a sultry summer eve.

Tara Sophia Mohr has done it again. Be sure to visit her Wise Living blog, "Because more is possible for your life." Thanks, Tara!

I remember well the moments when I first began to turn away from my own B+ life. I began to allow room for the truth — the truth that I wasn’t fulfilled by the status quo. That the things I really loved I had long neglected.

I began, slowly, scary as it was, to articulate what I wanted my life to look like. Who I wanted to be. What I wanted to be doing.

Have I reached that perfect end state picture? No. I’m not sure it will ever happen.

But the point is, I’m on the road.

When I approached my book tour, I decided to focus on living in the moment. After all, how many people get to actually go on a 20 city book, traveling the country and meeting their readers? I wanted to really be present on this book tour, rather than freaking out about what might be ahead or reliving what might have already happened.

So when I finished my chat at Connecticut College in New London, I was shocked when Editor-in-Pink Lauren (who is also my roadie on this leg of the journey) said, “You can relax now. You don’t have to do any public speaking for the next week.” Say what? We were about to hop on a train to spend six days in New York City! What did she mean I didn’t have any public speaking? But apparently, she spoke the truth.

I was not a glowing and happy pregnant mama. I viewed pregnancy more as cruel invasion. My body was not my own and this new inhabitant was not kind to me. This is the story of how my daughter got her first nickname, "Creaturella."