I find that I write daily. It is not always on a book or article, or anything else I’ve already started. Sometimes it is a comment on a news story that I read online. Sometimes it is a poem that pops into my head. Sometimes it’s something I notice and want to write about.
For awhile now I have “beat myself up” mentally for not writing every day. Then suddenly I realized I DO write daily. I just don’t sit down and write like I imagined writers write.
I’m working on a book and I call it my Blindman book . . . the title will explain itself eventually. But I’m also working on a sister book (or two) to go with it. I planned to work on the Blindman book daily, but sometimes I work on one of the sister books.
I do research. I have ordered the new Writers Market 2016 for I have things I want to submit, and I want the newest Writers Market.
I no longer work 40 hours (or more) a week. When I’m not able to sit and type, I am able to sit and read and research.
They say I’ll never go back to teaching. This affliction I have, and it does feel like an affliction, will prevent it. We’ll see. Thank God teaching is not the only talent I was blessed with. I’ve always written.
I’m currently trying to unpack some old boxes I found. Today I found some things I’d written in my Memoir and Truth Telling Course that I took at UNCW when I was in grad school there. In the margins are jotted notes from fellow classmates. We had to print out enough copies of our writing for every class member and we spent time critiquing each other’s work. I loved that class.
Those writings might be suitable for publication. I need to go back through them and see what I wrote and how it reads.
There’s more to being a writer than sitting at a keyboard typing 8 hours a day. Or there is for this writer.