On not writing

I’ve been on holiday. A real holiday, if you don’t count that pesky house moving stunt and assorted Yule and New Year’s festivities.

By holiday, I mean that I haven’t written a single thing.

It was strangely liberating at first. I had all this time to watch television, to read, to organise the new house. I didn’t get to waste time online, for we were without an internet connection (see pesky house moving).

As the days ticked by, I felt as though I was missing something. A limb, perhaps. I didn’t feel like myself. In my normal, plodding Taurean way, it took me a while to figure out what was missing. The writing.

It never fails to astound me how blind I can be to the things that are right in front of me.

Getting back into it is daunting. I have a third draft of Thought and Memory half completed. I also have a new novel developing in the back of my mind. And because that isn’t enough, I also have a yen to work on some short fiction. I have a bunch of stuff that should be trunked, but I want to see if there is anything that can be salvaged.

Two weeks of holiday is clearly enough time for me to recharge the writer batteries and really want to get back to it.

[cross-posted from my website]

On not writing

I’ve been on holiday. A real holiday, if you don’t count that pesky house moving stunt and assorted Yule and New Year’s festivities.

By holiday, I mean that I haven’t written a single thing.

It was strangely liberating at first. I had all this time to watch television, to read, to organise the new house. I didn’t get to waste time online, for we were without an internet connection (see pesky house moving).

As the days ticked by, I felt as though I was missing something. A limb, perhaps. I didn’t feel like myself. In my normal, plodding Taurean way, it took me a while to figure out what was missing. The writing.

It never fails to astound me how blind I can be to the things that are right in front of me.

Getting back into it is daunting. I have a third draft of Thought and Memory half completed. I also have a new novel developing in the back of my mind. And because that isn’t enough, I also have a yen to work on some short fiction. I have a bunch of stuff that should be trunked, but I want to see if there is anything that can be salvaged.

Two weeks of holiday is clearly enough time for me to recharge the writer batteries and really want to get back to it.

Mirrored from Stephanie Gunn.

On not writing

I’ve been on holiday. A real holiday, if you don’t count that pesky house moving stunt and assorted Yule and New Year’s festivities.

By holiday, I mean that I haven’t written a single thing.

It was strangely liberating at first. I had all this time to watch television, to read, to organise the new house. I didn’t get to waste time online, for we were without an internet connection (see pesky house moving).

As the days ticked by, I felt as though I was missing something. A limb, perhaps. I didn’t feel like myself. In my normal, plodding Taurean way, it took me a while to figure out what was missing. The writing.

It never fails to astound me how blind I can be to the things that are right in front of me.

Getting back into it is daunting. I have a third draft of Thought and Memory half completed. I also have a new novel developing in the back of my mind. And because that isn’t enough, I also have a yen to work on some short fiction. I have a bunch of stuff that should be trunked, but I want to see if there is anything that can be salvaged.

Two weeks of holiday is clearly enough time for me to recharge the writer batteries and really want to get back to it.

Mirrored from Stephanie Gunn.