Writer, Interrupted

This last month seemed to fly by like a desert dust devil, filled with trips out-of-state, extra work, an anniversary, kids, kids and more kids. Sadly, not much writing was accomplished.

I took time where I could find it. But for every minute I found, I had three taken away. My daily 500 word count was met most days, though admittedly not focused on any one project. Thus, it made it feel like a most unproductive month.

I soldier on.

The next month will be filled with much the same and will continue to escalate through to the new year. I will carry on with what I can, but to keep myself from over-burdening levels of guilt, I won’t set anything specific. My sanity will be tested as it is through this season of Merriment.

I will admit to a touch of envy for the NaNoWriMo-ers out there. Not so much for the grueling task they’ve set themselves, but for the time they’re able to commit to it. I wish them luck, and hope they don’t suffer an eleven month burnout.

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