L.A. Lewis's Blog

Not too long ago I had a dream that really changed my life. It was a scary dream, but the message was so profound. In the dream, my daughter and I were home alone. I was in my bedroom and she was in the living room. I heard voices coming from outside of my window. Male voices that didn’t belong to my son or my husband.

I peeped out and saw three men, one middle-aged and the other two maybe teenagers or early 20s. Apparently, I wasn’t doing a very good job peeping because the middle-aged man saw me. I ran from the window and rushed to every window and door in the house to make sure they were locked. They were. We were safe. Or so I thought.

I eased to the window again, pulled the curtain back, and looked out. The men were still standing there talking. At that point, it didn’t matter because we were locked inside. We were safe. I soon found out that wasn’t true.

When I turned around, there stood the middle-aged man. In my bedroom. Standing next a few feet away.

I started crying. Something about his presence made it obvious that he wasn’t there to chat. “Am I going to die?” I whispered between sobs.

He nodded casually like I’d asked if he’d like something to drink.

At that moment, I could only think of one thing. If he kills me, I’ll never get to hug my daughter again.

“Can I please hug my daughter first?” I pleaded.

I’d like to think that he granted my request, but I wouldn’t know because I woke up before anything could happen. Everything about that dream felt real. The thing that stood out to me was my request. At that moment, when I knew without a doubt I was about to leave, all I wanted was to hold my daughter one last time.

I didn’t think about the books that were unfinished.

I didn’t think about the trips I never took.

I didn’t think about the parties I never threw or the social events I never attended.

All I thought about was my daughter, the one person in my family I had access to at that moment.

I spend so much time in front of my computer either writing or teaching. Even when my work day is over, my laptop and I move from my workstation to the recliner to join my family in the living room. My body is there, but my attention isn’t. It’s split between my computer and my phone.

That dream caused me to reflect on how much time I devote to things that won’t matter at the end of my life. Now, I’m practicing the art of being in the moment. When we’re watching a movie as a family, I’m watching. I’m engaged. Not on my phone. Not checking emails, but giving myself fully and completely to the people who matter the most. Am I always successful? Nope! Sometimes I have to remind myself that I’m not supposed to be writing or reading emails or looking at Facebook, TikTok, or Instagram. I’m a work in progress, but aren’t we all?

I hope this message resonates with someone. I hope it makes you stop and perform your own time audit. Where are you spending most of your time? What’s getting the attention your family deserves? Who or what is getting the best part or you, not the leftover, tired, and drained part that’s still available at the end of the day.

Time management is impossible. You can’t manage what you can’t control. Instead, we should practice “self-management.” Learn how to live in the moment again. Spend more time in your own life instead of everyone else’s.

Maybe you’ve already come to that realization and made the needed change. If so, tell us about it. What made you decide to spend more time with family than social media or work? Was it challenging?

Has God ever had to tap you on the shoulder? I imagine the conversation going something like this.

God taps my shoulder. “Um.. excuse me.”

I turn around. “Yes, Lord? Is something wrong?”

God raises his brow. The look alone says, “As if you don’t know.”

“What did I do?” I ask while my mind runs through the day’s events trying to figure out what caused God to call me out.

“I have one question,” God announces.

“Okay.” I hold my breath and wait for the question that’ll no doubt change my life since…you know… it’s coming from God.

“How long are we going to do this your way?”

I understood that this question, like the, “Who do you think you’re talking to?” question I ask my children, was rhetorical. So, I didn’t. I did, however, allow His question to seep through my pores until His words consumed me. My silence left a vacancy, which God filled with more words of wisdom.

“Every day you sit in front of your computer and type. You take phone calls from clients or potential clients. You advertise on social media about your books. You take more calls. You do all of this, but not once did you ever ask me if I had anything planned for you today. You never asked what I wanted you to focus on today? I don’t recall a morning before your workday began, that you consulted with me about My agenda for your day. Did you forget that I’m the one who knows the plans for you? What made you think you could be successful without the blueprint?” He holds up a scroll and allows it to unfold.

It rolls way past my line of vision.

“Do you know what this is?” He points to the scroll.

I shake my head because words are now too difficult to form.

“This is everything I’d planned for your life. From the moment you were conceived until you exhale your very last breath.”

My eyes widen and an overwhelming sense of curiosity embraces me. I stretch my neck, but it’s no use. I can’t make out anything written on the scroll.

“I’m the author and creator. These customized plans are written in a language that only I can understand.”

Confusion replaces my curiosity. “Then how will I know?”

He smiles. “I’m also the interpreter.” He paused, then added, “You simply ask.”

 

 

Whenever I get a book idea, I have to date it for a while before I can commit my heart and my time to writing it. When I got the idea for Torn, I knew I wanted my main character to be in a very difficult situation. I wanted her to have to make a choice between two people she loved. It needed it to be a situation where making a choice would be almost impossible and definitely unimaginable.

Naturally, as a mother, my first thought was her children. As soon as that thought entered my mind I tossed it out. No way! Absolutely not! Because my mind works the way it does, I would’ve thought about that long after writing it. The only difference is, it would’ve been my children instead of my characters. I couldn't risk putting that thought in my head for that long. So, I went with the obvious choice... for me anyway... the parents. I’ll never have to choose between my parents so it was easier for me to write.

What was heartbreaking though, during my research for Torn, was one story about a father whose children really did need a kidney. Both of them. He was a match for both, just like my character Angel was for her parents.

BTW did you know that it's harder for African Americans to receive a transplant from a family member because so many of them have health issues of their own, automatically eliminating them from being a donor? (Found that out during my research as well).

So anyway, Torn is available if you’re interested in knowing what decision Angel made for her parents.Torn: A Daughter's Love

Whenever I get a book idea, I have to date it for a while before I can commit my heart and my time to writing it. When I got the idea for Torn, I knew I wanted my main character to be in a very difficult situation. I wanted her to have to make a choice between two people she loved. It needed it to be a situation where making a choice would be almost impossible and definitely unimaginable.

Naturally, as a mother, my first thought was her children. As soon as that thought entered my mind I tossed it out. No way! Absolutely not! Because my mind works the way it does, I would’ve thought about that long after writing it. The only difference is, it would’ve been my children instead of my characters. I couldn't risk putting that thought in my head for that long. So, I went with the obvious choice... for me anyway... the parents. I’ll never have to choose between my parents so it was easier for me to write.

What was heartbreaking though, during my research for Torn, was one story about a father whose children really did need a kidney. Both of them. He was a match for both, just like my character Angel was for her parents.

BTW did you know that it's harder for African Americans to receive a transplant from a family member because so many of them have health issues of their own, automatically eliminating them from being a donor? (Found that out during my research as well).

So anyway, Torn is available if you’re interested in knowing what decision Angel made for her parents.

I started practicing home bodyism (yes, it’s a thing because I just made it one 😊 ). Anyway, I started back in the late 80’s early 90’s, which I’ve learned recently are now considered historical years (shocked face). I’d always been a home body, but didn’t take the art serious until my mom was diagnosed with cancer.

I was in middle school and because the chemo made her so weak, we stayed home a lot. After she passed in 1990, I guess home bodyism had become a part of my life and today, I’m still actively practicing it.

I have learned though, that it is good to step outside every once in a while. I had a doctor ask me once if I’d ever been in the sun because my Vitamin D levels were so low. The sun and I aren’t really the best of friends so we tried to avoid each other as much as possible, but after she asked me that, I made amends and even though I don’t visit it regularly, I am better than I was before.

In case you’re wondering why I love writing so much, it’s because I get to write while being in the comfort of my home LOL!

I can actually thank my mom for jumpstarting my writing career as well. The first time I heard that I was a good writer was when I’d written an essay titled “A Day I Will Never Forget.” I know, the title is very unique 😊!

Anyway, I wrote about the day my mom passed. It’s amazing how 30 years later, I can still recall every detail of that day. I can’t recall much about last week, but I remember that day 30 years ago very well.

So, for my new friends and my old ones who never knew this about me, I’m Lorna Lewis, “L.A. Lewis” in the writing world, and I probably created the art of home bodyism.

If you’d like to learn more about this skill and all the wonderful benefits it entails, let me know and I’ll be happy to share all that I’ve learned over the years 😊.

If you’re already a home body expert and need more entertainment in your life, then I’d like to invite you to check out my website www.authorlalewis.com

When I wrote Dirty Little Secrets in 2009, it took me about a month to finish the rough draft. That’s it. One month. 4-5 weeks. I took a little break, then started working on Part 2, which wasn’t published until 2012. Next, came Double Down and Dirty which was published in 2016.

It wasn’t until this week when I sat and finished a short story that I realized why it takes me longer to write some novels than others, and it’s not just because of research or other obligations.

I love reading novels that are written in first person. It makes it feel more personable to me. I wrote Dirty Little Secrets in first person. All the rest were written in third person. I’ve attempted to write short stories over the years, and this is the first one I’ve actually finished. It’s written in first person. It didn’t take me long to write Dirty Little Secrets or the short story I just finished because I was writing in the point of view I enjoyed. It felt effortless. The ideas and words flowed easily.

I learned it’s important to write what you love.

This not only applies to the point of view but also tense (present or past), and genres. If you love romance, then write romance. If you love mystery, then write mystery.

I do think it’s good to challenge yourself and step out of your comfort zone from time to time too.  Don’t limit yourself. Try new things, but if you’re feeling stuck and unmotivated with your writing, then work on something that feels natural to help get you back in the zone.

Yesterday, I had an idea for a short story. All day long the ideas played in my head. While I watched television, I saw something that I could use to add to my plot (don’t fret I’m not stealing ideas… simply revising and reusing). As I washed the dishes, I thought of more ideas. I downloaded a new book and as I was listening, guess what happened? Yep! Another idea.

All these ideas were downloading in my mind, and I hadn’t even sat at my computer yet. I didn’t type not one word, yet I was still working on my manuscript.

I bet it never occurred to you that working on your manuscript doesn’t always mean sitting in front of your computer or writing in your notebook (though you will need to do that eventually). Thinking about your manuscript, reading and studying great writing, watching television and observing characters and plot development, are other ways you can work on your manuscript.

Do not… I repeat… Do not use those things as an excuse not to sit and write because as I said, you will need to do that too, but give yourself credit for the work you are doing and don’t beat yourself up over what you’re not doing. When the time is right, you’ll sit at the computer, and everything you’ve been working on in your mind will surge through your fingers and onto the computer screen…. Trust me

You know those women who work from home and seem to have it all together? Their days are planned, their houses are clean, their meals are prepped. Guess what? I’m not that woman. I’ve been a full-time writer for 8 months now, and I’m still trying to get myself organized. Wanna know a secret? Organizing isn’t exactly my strong suit.

Honestly, I feel like I would do better if I could somehow shut my brain off. Well, maybe not the brain since I need that to function, but my neverending thoughts that won’t allow me to feel satisfied no matter how productive I may be. I have a list of tasks, all very important, and whenever I’m working on one of them, the guilt sets in.

For example, If I’m critiquing my client’s work, I feel guilty because I’m not working on my own manuscript. If I’m working on my manuscript, I feel guilty because I’m not working on my script. No matter what I do, I somehow find a way to make myself feel as though it’s not enough.

Why is that? Why is it so easy for me to give a great big kudos to my clients on their progress, but still find fault with my own?

When I walked away from my full-time job, I imagined a day of writing, filming, coaching, and the gift on an endless amount of time on my hands. I was wrong! Boy was I wrong. I can’t tell you how many hours I’ve spent working on a schedule. How many Youtube videos I’ve watched to help me with planning and productivity. Nothing seems to work. And I won’t bother mentioning those days where the inspiration to be productive feels like it’s on vacation. So what now?

Now, I continue working towards fulfilling my goals. I try to train my brain to feel satisfaction instead of frustration. I keep reminding myself that consistency will help me reach my goal. My manuscript may not be finished by the summer as I planned, but I will finish it. I will constantly remind myself that I’m doing enough. That I am enough.

By now you may be wondering why I’m telling you all of this? Quite frankly I’m wondering the same thing. I don’t know, maybe you’ll see yourself in this blog and maybe you, like me, will come to the conclusion that you can’t do it all in a day. That being consistent towards your goals is really all you can do and maybe… just maybe… you’ll start to feel satisfaction instead of frustration as well.

Did this blog speak to you in any way? I’d love to hear your thoughts or even strategies that you’ve found to help increase productivity. I’m always open to learning.

This blog was originally written on May 16, 2018. I never published it for some reason but found it in my drafts. Wow! To read it and to know I’m now living the life I  dreamed of back then. AMAZING!

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I thought it was important to state that fact in the title. I really don’t hate my job, in fact, I’d say I have the ideal job. I get to work with teachers and students all day. I really don’t hate my job. I’m sure you’re asking yourself, “why does she keep saying that, we get it you don’t hate your job.”

So, I guess I should start at the beginning and explain where this is coming from. When I published my first book in 2009, I felt proud of that accomplishment. I’d actually written and published a book… even I couldn’t believe it. After I fulfilled that goal, something happened on the inside of me. I started desiring that feeling more and more. The feeling of setting a goal and actually achieving it.

Now, many years later, my goals have expanded dramatically. I once looked at $250,000 houses and wanted one for me and my family, but now those seem too small. I find myself looking at million dollar houses. I want that just as bad as I wanted to publish that book in 2009.

I want to travel and more than any of those things, I want freedom. Freedom to make my own schedule and attend awards day programs at my children schools without needing permission to take off. I want the freedom to be creative in all aspects of my life.

No, I don’t hate my job, but I am at the point where I desire more. So, if you ever hear me talk about the possibility of leaving education one day, just know that it’s not because I hate… well you get it.

There’s no excuse you can give that I hadn’t already used myself.

 

Who’s going to read my book, why even start?
It’s hard to be creative after working all day.
I don’t know the first thing about writing a book.
And most importantly…Will my story change lives and become more than the vision I hope it would be?
I have small children; there’s no time to write.
How can I concentrate on writing when there’s so much housework to do?
Who’s going to read my book?
After I knock this to-do off my list, I’ll sit down and write – promise.
There are already so many authors in the world.

I could go on and on, but what’s the point. There’s no excuse you can think of that haven’t already been used by thousands of other people. The truth is, you do have the time. People will read your story. Your story will change lives. 

You know all this, you’re just afraid. Don’t let fear stop you from doing what you know you need to do. Write the book. Change the lives. Enjoy the success. Everyone else is. Why not you?