As this awful house hunting thing continues in these last dog days of summer I find the poor air quality of the Valley has me moving from the air conditioned bedroom to the sometimes air conditioned office. It's not much of a life.
At the same time my writing feels further and further from me, I no longer feel like it is a part of me and that leaves me with a sinking feeling. I do have timelines and projects that will be ready to go in the future, but for now I do not have my hand in a writing project - it feels abysmal.
I do have a few half completed projects that are like young children calling for my attention and I hate to put them off, for little children shouldn't be put off, they need to be nurture to grow. How am I to become a full time writer and novelist when this is my predicament, I'm uncertain at the moment....Sad but true?