Chestnuts are roasting and the week’s unproductive.
I know, last week I vowed to start thinking like a small busines
s – and I plan to. Just not this week.
This week has seen the perfect storm of distractions blow my way. First and foremost, it’s the week before Christmas. While I should be writing about about my heroine’s sad solo honeymoon in Mexico, I find myself far more interested in baking sugar cookies and wrapping gifts. Adding to the distraction is the appearance of my son, Tattoo, who is home from college. Having not gotten to see much of him the past few months, I find myself using what free time I have to chat with him. I’ve learned much about his new life over coffee.
Finally, the Christmas season hit just as I was starting a new book. I am not a writer for whom the first three chapters come easy. Heck, none of the chapters come easy. The first three, however, are the worst. I find myself stumbling to find the true emotional core of the story, often writing the first chapter two, three or six times before I do. It’s painful, difficult creating, and when faced with far more fun tasks – like baking cookies – I have trouble getting myself to the keyboard. I’ve set myself a small goal of a couple thousand words this week. (Normally I shoot for that in a day.) At least then I won’t feel like a complete slug.
On the other hand, I don’t feel all that bad about goofing off. Too many Christmas weeks have rushed by me in the past, a whirl of work and to-do lists. There’s been some Christmases where I never had the chance to bake or enjoy my Christmas tree. As part of my new resolve and new mindset, I want to make sure I get those moments. After all, time is short, and at 50 years old, who knows how many more moments there will truly be.
So as I wrap up this week’s rambling musing, let me take this moment to wish you all many, many moments of your own. Whether you are Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Pagan or Agnostic, may you experience the warmth of friends, family and love over these next several days.
Merry, Merry, Christmas.
Love, Barb