Writing is hard. I’m in the middle of writing book two and it hasn’t progressed as far as I would hope. But I suppose it’s to be expected. Interest wanes for me, especially this time of year when I have the holidays to distract me. Every weekend is pretty much something festive to do with the family. Whether its decorating, baking cookies, putting up the Christmas tree–it’s pretty much all the things I want to do that take priority over writing.
That’s not to say I don’t try. I certainly do, I just don’t get much done. Maybe a few pages here and there. And my attention is a bit divided so that when I reread the copy I don’t remember it all. That ever happen to you? You reread something and you have no recollection of writing it in the first place? That’s where I am right now. I re-read a chapter and thought: “Damn, who wrote this? They sure are good!”
Okay, that only happens sometimes. And when it does happen I spend a lot of time laughing at myself. Because I’m just a jolly person. And that’s what this time of year is about, right?
Of course it is.