The Writer's Life

Struggling is an apt word in my life lately.

Oh, don’t worry that I’m actually beset by troubles - I’m not. Daughters are doing well and making me proud, Mary has still not noticed there are bigger fish in the sea and the sea itself is calm.

The struggle lies in where to put my time. The older I get, the more aware am I that time remaining is at once finite and undefined, leaving me embroiled in a constant mental struggle to determine how this most precious resource should be spent. (And of course, kicking my own ample caboose for the unconscionable waste of much of it in my younger years.)

I’ve been quite ill this last week and as I’ve recovered, regaining mental capacity before physical energy, I’ve spent a great deal of time restructuring my approach to my book project. In its current incarnation, it is entirely possible I’ll have a readable draft ready for torturing friends who can’t refuse me in about four months. But don’t count on it – just in the last six months, there have been several identifiable ‘fresh starts’ as I’ve realized the story wasn’t going in a useful direction.

‘Fresh start’ number (5?) began today. Which means time for blogging is at something of a premium.

Sorry about that. I promise to be back with you as soon as possible.