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Point of View: Dead Writers Don’t Write

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Hey all,

This is a difficult time of year for me in any year, but especially this year:

Christmas is bearing down on us, with all the responsibilities that entails – gifts, cards, parties, and preparation.

Just beyond the holiday looms a 12 day trip out of the country. Don’t get me wrong – I am really looking forward to it. But it’s coming at the start of the new year, traditionally a very busy time for us.

The Trump cloud hangs over our heads like a pronouncement of doom, and it’s never far from my thoughts.

And in the midst of it all, I am racing toward the finish line to submit a novel by the end of the year, while at the same time writing two serial fiction stories and final proofing my other, already-sold novel.

I am pushing myself too hard. I know this, but I can’t stop. Not yet.

This happens to writers. We over-commit. Things come in all at once instead of in a neat, orderly fashion. And we find our writing /editing / plotting time squeezed by events beyond our control.

We do our best to make it all work anyhow.

In the middle of all of this, I have to remember to take care of myself.

I touched on this a bit last week, in my post “Things That Bring Me Peace and Joy“.

But on a more basic level, I have to remember to stop, close my eyes and breathe now and then. To let myself sleep in one day a week. To eat on a semi-regular basis. And to find time with my husband, Mark.

These things keep me sane. These things keep me alive. Alive is good – dead writers don’t write.

This will all pass. I will get through these next ten days, and things will get better, calmer, quieter.

I just have to manage my resources so my writing, my health and my sanity all end up in one piece.

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