Every year I say I will write a novel and every year I do not write a novel.
I will plan to write it and even create a schedule to add a block of time for writing in my daily or weekly routine. I may even start to write my latest literary genius. However, before long, my life gets overwhelming, my schedule goes out the window, my creative energy is sapped, and I do not make time for writing.
Once again, I made the new year’s resolution to write a novel. It was going well for two months and then a repeat of all the other years happened: my seasonal depression hit, even harder than usual, and everything around me went haywire shortly thereafter… such as finding out my mother’s tumor came back and she required another surgery. This meant my mother would need care and someone to take over her role as caretaker for my grandfather. Not hard to guess who got both jobs.
The story I had been working on up until then that had once filled me with excitement now held no interest for me. I thought if I just got back to it, reread what I’d written so far and sat down to continue writing, I’d get that old feeling of enthusiasm back. But I couldn’t work up the energy to so much as open the document on my computer.
JaimeKristal 