My horoscope was interesting yesterday, it said, and I quote, “… this is a great time to be moving forward on a writing project.” I felt like the star-guru had somehow reached inside my computer and figured out I write. Can they do that? Ah, yeah. Well, who cares, I wrote, a lot.
Today I e-sent, snail-sent, and am building a fire to smoke-signal my way to continued publication. I have so many projects percolating and plates spinning in the air that I wonder, what would I be doing if I didn’t write?
If I didn’t spend my evenings at the keyboard where would I be?
On the couch watching my husband have his nightly affair with Judge Judy. (Maybe I should play dress-up in a black robe and a little white lace collar.)
If my head didn’t continually spin with plots, characters and words counts what would I be thinking about?
The bills that are due.
First thing in the morning, if I didn’t figure out how I’m going to fit writing in that day, what would I be figuring out?
How to get to work on time.
At night just before I fall asleep the last thing on my mind is where I’m at in a story and where I should be, so if I weren’t musing what would I be doing?
Ah, ha. That’s it.
All the other moments when the actual thinking of writing, and doing of writing, is somehow pushed to second place, what will I be doing?
Praying and promising God…just let this novel be the one and I’ll become a nun. I already have the black robe and the white collar, oh wait…I’m not Catholic.