It’s been one of those weeks where I didn’t write anything on my manuscript. Yes, I have a self-imposed deadline in mind and I doubt I will reach it. Some days I truly forgot about the work in progress. Others, I told myself, I would write the next day, which didn’t happen.
Instead of writing, I spent time working on a jigsaw puzzle that’s a doozy. I also did more coloring this week. Coloring relaxes me. I so enjoy bringing a picture to life with color. It’s my favorite hobby. There are times when I don’t want to color, too. I’m a person who has too much free time on their hands and gets bored easily with the same things.
So why not write? If I spend only an hour a day, I’ll make fantastic progress on my manuscript. It only takes missing one day and then I don’t mind missing the next and the next. If a writer doesn’t commit to at least one hour a day, everything goes off track. That’s the problem for writers like me. Writers who have lived the best part of their lives already. Widows or widowers who live alone, or perhaps with a cat, like me. Those who don’t have to work any longer and need to fill the hours.
I’m longing from this long winter to be over and spring to come. I long to sit on my front porch and welcome in the new day listening to the birds singing. I long to sit outdoors and write. Or, so I tell myself.
Carol Ann Erhardt, Author 