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It’s been a rough and glorious year. Rough, because a divorce that was imminent and nearly inevitable came to pass. Several unanticipated things came with it, including drama with my children, my dog, and of course some of my friends and family.

There was other drama too. Stuff I won’t delve into here. If you want to know more you’ll need to get me drunk, and if I am going to spill secrets I need really expensive Scotch. A bottle or two will do nicely.

The summer was a dry spell in the writing department. I did some, but I never got into a routine. There was no flow. The novel(s) I was working on stopped, the story went stale. I started a new one, but never made the time to get in deep. The same with novellas. A lot of fun was had, but my life was missing something, and it started to show.

I’ve shared before that when I am not writing, I am a real ass. (Read my poem, I am an Asshole) A professional relationship I had for a long time ended, and I moved on to other things. But reality also started to hit. My son would soon be living with me full time, I needed to get a place for my dog and my little family.

At the same time, I was in a new relationship. The summer felt like one long vacation, with trip after trip and one social event after another. My time was invested in other things, and my creativity only somewhat satisfied.

Close to broke, with book sales at an all-time low, in large part due to my lack of marketing, I decided I needed to do a couple of things. First, I needed a day job of some sort. Child support was slow in coming, and debt piled up.

Second, I needed to refocus on my writing. There are stories to tell. So many stories.

The first few weeks of this time, adjusting to a new schedule, a new job, my son and girlfriend both back in school, were rough. Frankly, I was spinning out, and everything felt like it was out of control.

If you follow me on social media, you may have seen I have been blogging about all kinds of things, everywhere. The pump has been primed by work. I am writing a humor column, and about GIS, cycling, and other things I am interested in. The words are bottled up, waiting to flow.

And I am ready. My fingers rest on the keys, burning. I cannot type fast enough. Poetry is flowing, stories are being born, old ones being revitalized.

I have been asleep. In a cocoon. Not anymore. I am emerging, a new butterfly, a reborn man, and a refreshed writer.

I hope you are ready. Watch out words. Here I come.

Troy Lambert
Troy is a freelance writer, author, and blogger who lives, works, and plays in Boise, Idaho with the love of his life and three very talented dogs.

Passionate about writing dark psychological thrillers, he is an avid cyclist, skier, hiker, all-around outdoorsman, and a terrible beginning golfer.