Two weeks ago I felt about like this picture.
Spring now comes to my part of the world - and I say that knowing it isn't spring. March is still a winter month. Never trust march. She's a bitch.
The problem is how we endure the winter.
I don't plan. I don't made provisions. I just muddle my way through it.
Leaves me a bit like the picture in mood. Surprise.
Happenstance does about the same for my writing. If I don't leave enough time to do the finer work of polishing the story, my process leaves me rushed, disappointed, and about like in the picture, too.
Better to lay in a larder of time to make the deadline and be content with the work.
Off to raid the time pantry.
You have work to do, too.
No comments:
Post a Comment