Yes, I finished NaNo, in case you're wondering. And in the spirit of getting words on the page, here's a post I wrote earlier in the year for Good Choice Reading
***
You know who you are—a lurking
writer, someone who loves books with a mad fiery passion, someone who holds
vocabulary as dear as chocolate, someone who dreams up stories while doing
laundry or dishes or cleaning the toilet. You take notes on the people around
you, pondering character traits, studying motivation, considering farfetched
hopes and wild dreams.
Yes, that’s right, you want to be
an author.
“But I don’t have time,” you sigh
regretfully, looking at your ridiculously long to-do list and mentally
itemizing your obligations and responsibilities.
I sympathize. Believe me, I do.
Been there. I spent years putting off writing. I was a mom, a wife, a person
with a job! Yes, I wanted to write, but anyone could see I didn’t have the
time. That book would just have to wait.
I didn’t commit to finishing my
first novel until divorce turned me into a single parent with less time than
ever.
I made time. Started getting up really early to write even though it
messed with my biorhythms. Kept going until I finally finished.
Writing takes commitment. And
now, years later and remarried, I still struggle with finding enough time to
write. But the books still refuse to write themselves.
Think of it as laundry or dishes
or cleaning the toilet if you must, but get it on your list and treat it like
it’s too important to put off.
Because it is.