I wished I could be a full-time writer. Imagine the novels and screenplays that would spew forth from my conveyor belt of creativity.
I could write for 8 hours a day, just like a regular job and take lunches with my family so they wouldn’t miss me too much while I’m in Etherland.
Except I can only write for three hours a day. Then my brain switches off. Granted, I’m actively writing for three hours, not thinking or planning or editing.
And because I write from 3am to 6am, the rest of the day is for the rest of life. I’ll take an hour to edit a chapter, but my brain craves mundane activity. Like polishing the wooden floors of my tiny period home.
All my planning and dreaming and talking to characters and getting to know them takes place while I’m polishing my floors. And then when I sit down to write at 3am the next morning, I’m already in the flow.
I started We, Cathleen on 1 September and am at 76k words. That’s my best pace ever and I should be done with the first draft by end October.
If you’ve read this far, I do appreciate it. If you are a fiction writer, link me to one of your posts in the comments. I’d love to visit you too. 🙏