Here in Ottawa, Canada where I live, it’s summer. The lilacs have faded, the peonies have all dropped, and now the roses and lilies are blooming in the gardens around town.
In the early evenings when I walk Mr. Darcy, the air smells like barbeque and I can hear music playing, the sound carrying across the parks from a downtown jazz festival.
Summer is Canada in all its glory and the last thing I want to do is be stuck inside finishing up a poetry manuscript and revising a novel. I’d much rather be lounging outside in the heat on a hazy afternoon, cool drink in one hand and fat juicy paperback in the other.
But I am still writing.
This blog post was written at 7am, during a Writer’s Flow Studio community writing session.
(Shout out to the Friday 7am crew! Especially Mari who finished her book and sent it off to beta readers yesterday, and Lenore who had a publisher ask for her full manuscript after she joined a Twitter pitch event, and Jackie whose...
Of all the reasons writers give for not [yet] finishing their books, time is at the top of the list.
We think we would finish the book we’ve started – the one gathering pixel dust deep in the recesses of our laptops – if only we had more time.
How much more time?
Heaps! Gobs! Bunches! Loads!
At least one completely free day every weekend, but preferably just weeks and weeks of open time as we go off somewhere alone and away from all our daily tasks and distractions.
We want a long stretch of time with nothing to do but write, ideally with someone bringing us yummy food, and changing out the towels and bed sheets every 2-3 days. (I confess: IT ME!)
For many writers, it’s impossible to conceive of finishing a book without a blank calendar that stretches miles out into the distance.
And when was the last time any of us had one of those?
You can see the dilemma.