Okay, I know when I started this thing I was sure I’d be writing like a maniac each and every day. Why? Well, because all those conflicting things I had going on last November are no longer around. No classes, so no homework. No theatre club, so no meetings and no rehearsals and no administrative stuff. Those were the things that kept my nights busy–my days are already busy with my Day Job as an IT Professional–and therefore I thought with them out of the way I’d go to town and be rocking the word count by now.
I seem to remember someone once saying, “The best laid plans of mice and men…” How true. At least for me.
So, the non-writing of the last week has me wondering. Do I really want to finish this book? My heart says, “Of course, silly!” while my head is wavering. I think way back in the back there, behind the file cabinet where all of my French and Spanish vocabulary is stored for when I take that vacation to Europe, the Scaredy Cat is influencing things. She’s whispering to me, “You’re tired, you don’t want to write. You want to go home and relax on your pretty new couch and snuggle with your cute kitties and watch a Blu-ray on your new HDTV, don’t you?” Sadly, most of the time SC wins. I also find it interesting that I most want to write when I’m at work, which is nearly impossible to do.
I know, I know. In the time I’ve spent writing this blog, I could have been working on my book. As Auntie Valerie would likely ask me, “In what ways do you find that not writing, or making excuses about not writing, rewards you?” The answer, of course, is not a damned thing.