Keep on keeping on ...

I call myself 'a writer'. It's what I love most in life - my passion, the thing that makes time lose all meaning, that makes everything else just go away ...

So why is it that it's also the thing that ends up at the boottom of the priority queue? What does it say about me that I feel I can only write when everything else is running according to schedule?

I started a new work about two weeks ago. Wrote a complete outline on one day - a good outline, with a real beginning, middle and end. Which doesn't often happen, usually my writing begins with an image, or an emotional reaction, some trigger that later grows into a fully-fledged story. This one leapt forth fully grown. So there I was, totally excited and putting pen to paper - yeah, fingers to keyboard! - and I pushed out chapter one in a day. Awesome.

Then, everything around me went to hell in terms of disorder, indecision, problems to solve, and stressful emotions to deal with. And as each day passes, my story seems to fade into insignificance, and loses attractiveness, and I keep thinking that on my next day off, I'll get back to it ... and then I wonder if it's worth writing, worth all the hard work ...

And then I think - HELL, YES!!!! :-) If I were given six months to live (why is it always six months?), the one thing I'd want to do is finish something worth publishing. And this story IS a good one, I know it in my bones, so ... HELL, YES!!

Onward, then and shitty life issues be damned!