I think balance is a huge key to becoming a successful writer. I’m still working on it. Like on the retreat. I wrote like a madwoman and accomplished so much on the wip. But now, back in real life, I’ve yet to do anything. Oh, I’ve done things. I’ve done the things for my friend’s celebration of life. And I’ve cleaned the house and gone out for Valentine’s Day and talked to my therapist and taken care of sick kids and helped my niece with some things and did children’s church and helped my husband with his flat tire and bent wheel and did SCBWI Oklahoma publicity and met with my kids’ ACT test coach. (And, obviously, stuff I don’t even remember.) And now I need to contact my daughter’s college and make sure her application process is going all right. And I need to make sure she’s ready to graduate and that we’ve got everything ordered and ready to go. And I need to encourage my husband to schedule his guys’ day with his male family members. And I need to take care of Easter prep for church. Plus feed these people and keep the house going and homeschool and do the publicity stuff for the upcoming conference. Oh, and get my house actually clean, not just passable, before the beginning of March, when some SCBWI people are coming over. And don’t forget starting to get things ready for Lenora’s graduation and party. Oh, and I’m trying to read a book a week this year and I’m already behind, so catch up on that.
And finish two novels and work on revisions for my other one.
I almost feel like crying reading all of that.
I have the time. I know that. But it’s hard to compartmentalize. To say, “okay, I’m going to write for three hours and not think about the rest of this stuff.” But that’s what I need to do.
Le sigh.