I know writers who do this thing daily for hours on end. They are focused, driven. Many of them love every moment they spend at their craft; others are more tortured. Me? I am neither of those. I love writing when I do it and I don't do it when I don't love it. The result is that my life is a timeline of literarily fertile periods alternating with infertile times. These periods of fertility can last anywhere from weeks to years, as can the infertile ones. I am just coming out of a dry spell, during which I tried once or twice to force the issue, to make myself sit down at the keyboard and create, but never managed to produce more than a few paragraphs of uninspired drivel. Now, I am ready to write again. How do I know? Because I have awakened several mornings lately thinking about my characters and their stories. Because I am able finally to clear some time in the calendar for doing the work. Of course, I was always able to do that; I just didn't. Now I have done so and that is another sign I am ready to write.
Fresh fertility I think warrants a fresh blog. Welcome to Drafted! Here, I will write about writing and share links to what I write, much of which will be shared free of charge. I hope you will follow me here and check in frequently to keep up with what's cooking on my laptop.
Fresh fertility I think warrants a fresh blog. Welcome to Drafted! Here, I will write about writing and share links to what I write, much of which will be shared free of charge. I hope you will follow me here and check in frequently to keep up with what's cooking on my laptop.
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