Friday, February 15, 2019

Excuses and Time to Write

I just read Elizabeth Spann Craig's post 'Writing on the Tough Days' and now I feel guilty.  I haven't written anything in the past week.  Yeah, sure, I know... I have a good excuse.  But good or not, it's still an excuse. 

She's absolutely correct.  There is always time to write, if you make time.  Whittle it out somewhere.  But if you wait for 'the perfect time', you'll find yourself writing less and less.  Those perfect times can be so fleeting.  And there will always be excuses for why this isn't the perfect time. 

Funny thing is back when I had less time to write, I was better at finding time.  Now, I have scads of time to write and I find excuses not to.  It's a sad, strange little conundrum. 

And if I had taken those moments to write when I really had nothing else going on, then I wouldn't feel so bad taking the week off because of this damn cold.  Right when I was on a roll, too.  Blerg.

This week, though, every time I try to think about writing, it's like 'Og make words.  Smush together make sentences. Ugg.'

All the time I've wasted prior to this brain fog sits heavily.  I'll try to do better in the future.  Use the time you have, folks, because you can't get that wasted time back.

Today?  I'm 95% better.  Unfortunately, part of that 5% that's still out there is my brain.  We'll see what tonight brings.

Go, read Elizabeth's post.  She said it better than I could've.

2 comments:

  1. Hugs on the cold. Sickness is a good reason not to write. You need the extra sleep to heal. May your creepy-crawlies vanish soon!

    Elizabeth did write a great post, as usual. I am getting better at filling in those stray quarter hours with real work, but I need to work harder at it.

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  2. I remember when I was driven to write. The words didn't want to wait. I at lunch alone, somewhere where no one from my office would bother me, scribbling madly. Or back when Only was in school, getting her off and then "retiring" to my home office to type madly. There were nights when I'd be up until the wee hours because the words crowded around and wouldn't let me sleep for all their noise.

    I miss those days. Stupid brain and the internal chemicals and emotions that eff things up. I'm getting back into new words. Slowly. But I am getting there. That's something, at least.

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