I live in a hidden cave, deep below my house. I access it through the living room closet’s crawl space trapdoor. That’s after I remove all the shoes, moving blankets, plastic containers and a suitcase off the floor of the trapdoor, take a butter knife and pry the edge of the clunky piece of wood up high enough that I can slip my fingers under it and toss it aside. I drop down into the opening and disappear from sight. I am a hermit.
No…not really. But I had you going, right? Our crawl space is only used in case we need to take cover from a tornado. And I hope that never happens.
Back to the hermit thing. I’m sure most people would consider me a hermit as I don’t leave the house too often and never have anyone over for a visit. I screen phone calls, screen anyone knocking on the door (really need to buy a doorbell), cannot recall the last time I went to a bar, and rarely attend parties.
I’m okay with all of this, too. My ADHD goes into hyper-drive around groups of people anyway…I can’t focus on any one conversation which tends to make me zone-out.
Hey, a lot of writers hibernate in their safe zones in order to crank out brilliant works of art. *I hear fingers tapping or see them pointing at me. Someone loudly clears their throat.* Okay…so I’m a wee slow on the output of late.
But the story I’m working on will make your heart race with excitement and fear. It’s nearly done. I have 3 chapters to go (total 25). Last night I cemented my outline for the climax and ending and will be finishing it up over the next week. I’ve changed this story numerous times, adding interesting characters, beefing up the plot and action…whew.
My Next Book – A Refresher for you Readers out There:
1. A person who has withdrawn from society and lives a solitary existence; a recluse.
2. A spiced cookie made with molasses, raisins, and nuts.
Are there any other “hermits” out there who dare to speak up? Leave your comments!