I’ve been on a long hiatus from writing, from posting blogs, from doing anything close to being “authorly.” For many months I have allowed life to get in the way of my muse. Travel, guests, weather, family, painting, music–I can come up with any number of justifications and they would all be valid. However, if I am to be completely honest, I must own up to the fact that I simply did not sit myself at my desk, tune out all distractions, and write.
The main difference between people who accomplish things and those who don’t is the actual doing of what it takes to attain their goals. Once upon a time I was that person who did what it took, who was disciplined about writing, who worked diligently on completing novels. But lately (heck, this whole year! How did it get to be October already, by the way?) I’ve been one of those people who only think about writing that book, who goes to the computer to write and spends hours doing anything but.
This morning I resolved to decide if I want to write another book or not. It was time to pull out my writing folder, read through the nineteen different first chapters I’ve written, pick one, and get to work. (Yes, I have the beginnings of nineteen novels in my folder. A few have as many as 50 pages into the story. And some of them are pretty good, if I do say so myself.)
So I’m back in the author’s chair and we’ll see where it takes me.