Yay! The story pot is starting to bubble again, enough that I can dip into it for some fifteen minute timed writings. It feels good!
I think my problems this weekend were a creative temper tantrum, “If I can’t have time to write properly I won’t write at all, so there!” But actually, I can’t not write, it hurts too much.
I fully intend to make some changes, find a way of living that allows me to place writing more centrally. In the meantime, I’ll write in the crevices and cracks, in the fifteen minute gaps.
Fifteen minutes before I get up. Fifteen minutes on the train. Fifteen minutes in my lunch break (note to self- make sure you take your lunch break!). Fifteen minutes at bedtime. Maybe that’s what making writing the core of my life really means. Finding those fifteen minutes, again, and again, and again.