My husband noticed that I haven't been writing much lately. I was a little surprised that he brought it up, my writing is a part of our life that is relegated to the place where we put things that are seldom acknowledged. Tricky things, you know. Potential minefields of conflict.
He told me once that he doesn't bring it up because he doesn't want to put pressure on me. You see, we're facing a period of uncertainty just now, and to be honest, a book deal would be Just the Thing. But you know, that's not something to keep in your pocket when you're trying to be creative. (S)
So anyway, he noticed, and he asked me about it. "It's what you want to do," he reminded me, "you just need to keep doing it."
"I know," I said, "it's just that I'm failing at it and I'm frustrated."
"You're not failing," he replied, as he scrubbed around the kitchen tap, "you're doing it. You're a writer already. You just need to finish something, so you can either get it published or go on to the next one. Keep trying. I'm going to read your friend's book (Vicki's) and I'm going to read something of yours."
Dontcha love him?
So last night I sat down and I wrote. About 500 words. And I've decided that I'm going to keep up with Susan.
Things I'm grateful for today:
I don't have to work today
Baby's asleep, and the words are coming.
Mediterranean Chicken and Sausage stew