I used to write all of the time and as of late, this hasn’t been the case.
I’ve been trying to ignore the fact that I haven’t been writing. But, eventually, I have to come face to face with my own…laziness? lack of inspiration? lack of time? something.
Today, I opened the file for an abandoned novel and discovered, much to my surprise, that I had written over seventy pages. I was pleased until I remembered that I had opened the file before and experienced that same surprise. You know you’re not writing when…
I mentioned to a woman at work that I was going to try to write tonight and I did. Not much, but nothing is better than a whole lot of nothing. I guess that accountability works for me.
I used to go to a writing group on Tuesday evenings, but stopped going when the writing dried up. I think that there is a bounty on my head.
With a few more nights like tonight, I could show my face there again one day.