January 16, 2006

November was National Novel Writing Month, and I made more progress on my novel then than the rest of the year combined. But then came dreaded December: three birthdays, holiday parties, travel home to family, and high school reunions intruded. And my word count froze like a snowman.

Still, the holidays are for relaxing right? There will be some free time to... wrong! All times are sucked up in the family vacuum. Everyone's got precious time off and you feel guilty taking "me" time when the "we" time is so rare. I thought, at the very least, I'd have time at the airport, but instead that time was spent rushing from gate to gate or being fed or entertaining the grumpy hubby or trying to combat time changes and red-eye flights or mastering ultra-difficult but short attention span sudoku puzzles. I think I got a chapter of a book read.

When we weren't being entertained, we were entertaining, preparing to entertain, or recovering from entertaining. It was terribly exhausting, all that family time. All that food. And the resulting food coma.

One thing I have realized is that if I'm not tip-top, I can't seem to write at all. I can't write when I'm tired. And I can't write when I'm stressed. And I also found, after a dear pet passed away, I can't write when I'm unhappy. At least, not about romance. Every love scene turned into a eulogy to my dearly departed pet rabbit. So, instead of using my precious writing time to further my novel, I spent it procrastinating by doing mindless household chores. I used bleach for the first time in years.

But now it's the new year, and I'm trying to rev up and feel refreshed and get back on that writing wagon. The house looks great from all my chores and .I've shed those pesky pounds gained from the holiday munching and swilling. I swear, those hot buttered rums get me every time! As the season of love approaches, I'm feeling good, going for walks where my creative juices are starting to trickle again. I look ahead.

What better way to spend the Valentine's Day season than thinking and writing about love?