My journal got a BUNCH of pages added to it this week, but nothing more. I am even struggling through the day job of writing training manuals, and that’s just “Click here, enter this text, follow this process” type of writing. But, I’m working on getting ME better, and that is the most satisfying writing of all.
Yet, I didn’t forget to do this post, even if it is a little late, I’m here, and I’m writing. That counts for something, even if it is not adding to my novel’s word count at the moment. Not everything can be about the word count, that much is true. We have to live, experience, grow in order to write authentically.
I read recently that writers are having trouble writing after being stuck inside for the past year. Not all of us are struggling through the isolation, as I am one who has been grateful for not being able to leave the house, at least for the time so far. The isolation has allowed me to be more focused on the things that matter – and not hyperfocused on failing to add to the word count. I’m more focused on bringing balance to my life. Writing is such a huge part of my life, and I am thriving with the ability to do so in a more balanced, authentic way.
Okay, no back to looking into the Freedman’s Bureau….
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