I know that this title might drive fear into the hearts of many writers, and yes, the idea of NOT writing can bring me out in a cold sweat, but let me explain. I don’t mean give up writing. If you’re like me, giving up my writing would be like giving up a piece of what makes me me. No, I mean that sometimes we need to take a break, and life shouldn’t be seen as a distraction.
December was a busy month for me. I got married, attended school plays, played chauffeur to my daughter, taking her to Christmas parties, discos, school parties. I caught up on a back log of Christmas shopping, then took my Nana shopping for the best part of six hours. As a family we went out for meals, watched films, and so on, and so on. At first, I told myself that these were just excuses, that if I really tried I would have fitted in my writing time. Perhaps this is partly true, but it was only when I told myself that writing was a big part of my life, but not my whole life that I finally saw the light.
Sometimes, it’s okay to NOT write. It’s okay to enjoy my life without having that nagging word count in the back of my mind. The world won’t end, and I won’t spontaneously combust from sheer lack of typing. I’m ambitious, and I want to achieve things, but I set the deadlines, the time schedules, the goals, and I need to set my limits.
After all, it’s life that gives us writers rich experiences to draw upon, and life is the best form of research.
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