It’s been obvious to me for some time that I have a time management problem. I need to be working on fiction. (Right now, like while I’m doing this.) The urge to write is something every writer understands. The trouble is, the urge is sort of undifferentiated. It doesn’t care what you write, just that you do.
And it is so easy to do these things rather than chip away at the short story that currently defies completion.
Not to mention all the other pesky things that gum up the well-intentioned schedule you’ve made for a given day.
I should listen to no news. I should stay indoors, holed up with provisions for a siege, turn off my phone, never venture away from my computer until the new story is submittable.
Should and will rarely intersect.
I’ve been having technical issues with my WordPress account lately. I’m writing this by a somewhat tortured backdoor method that requires using a pathway from my other blog. I intend to use it as a good excuse to work on other things until the next major upgrade comes down the pike.
So I have not been posting as frequently as I once did and plan to continue not posting that frequently. If the world implodes, the president resigns, or glaciers begin reforming, let me know. I have fiction in the pipeline.