Writing has almost crashed. The 1,000-a-day minimum quota has been broached, downwards, despite working when I can to make it up. I can point to a whole host of reasons why, including a new grandson and supporting my daughter, but the reality is that something has had to give.
Take yesterday, for example: radio show in the morning, pop back to check on a carpenter finishing our kitchen, then a drive up to Birmingham for an evening book launch & publishing group launch, sleep overnight, drive back, sort out Shipton Shorts, handle admin, continue some marketing stuff to help with this year’s Orwell Dystopian Fiction Prize, drive to local library to support the Summer Reading Challenge, then back home. Rest. Whither writing? Sure, a blog entry, but it’s not the 1000 words.
Trouble is, that in these situations, I always feel like pushing myself to do more. Such behaviour is a mistake, though, a habit from the past. The reality is that all these activities have to be surrounded by, and enmeshed within, Pain Management. For others, that may seem to slow things down; for me, it’s as fast as I can go without punishing myself.
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