I've been writing since I learned to read, and yet, I have no time to write. I could be writing right now (blogging doesn't really count, does it?) but I am basking in the afterglow of vigorous housecleaning, surveying my tidy domain and contemplating tackling the craft closet, which is in dire need of reorganizing. I have a full-time job (roughly 45 hours/week) but an empty nest, which should be conducive to writing.
I'm supposed to be writing a short story for a contest I found, or working on my new novel manuscript, fresh from the editor's desk, quietly waiting for me to address her suggestions and continue research and round out the story to prepare it for submission. But the sun in shining, the breeze whispering through the trees, and my craft supplies are in serious disarray.
No one is home right now to interrupt my thoughts; I really ought to be writing or revising.
Did I mention the book I'm reading? It's by Rae Meadows, a new author to me: Mercy Train. I was first reeled in by the cover, depicting two children running away from the camera toward a train crossing a railroad bridge spanning a river. It looks like an old photograph, back when they started using color film. The characters are great, the writing superb. It's easy to lose myself in a book like this. Check out the author's website here: http://raemeadows.com/
Okay, that's enough procrastinating. I'll just have one more cup of coffee while I set up my writing area. The paper needs adjusting, the pens aren't lined up, and the chair is a bit wobbly. Maybe if I grab a screwdriver I can fix that too...