I haven't been talking much about writing because, as you can imagine, I haven't been writing. One parent with Alzheimer's, a dog with what we thought was cancer and wasn't (yoo-hoo!), four kids at home, some new kitties (that are crazy, by the way) and a house to deep clean. Yeah, not writing. Except for these lovely posts of mine.
And yet there are moments during the day when I stand at the kitchen sink, soaping up dishes, and I think to myself about my characters. I wonder how to make Philippa more interesting and whether or not Sadie should actually give in and kiss Andrew (maybe then an agent would want my story). I think about how the scene between Daniel and Vivian needs to pan out and whether or not I can write witty dialogue from a gay man's point of view. I get so invested in these characters as I try to make their stories come to life, that I absolutely cannot wait for the time when my own life will settle down a bit and my fingers can play with my computer keys.
The question is, when will I find that time? I'm not sure I ever will, but I'm starting my search in 3, 2, 1...
And yet there are moments during the day when I stand at the kitchen sink, soaping up dishes, and I think to myself about my characters. I wonder how to make Philippa more interesting and whether or not Sadie should actually give in and kiss Andrew (maybe then an agent would want my story). I think about how the scene between Daniel and Vivian needs to pan out and whether or not I can write witty dialogue from a gay man's point of view. I get so invested in these characters as I try to make their stories come to life, that I absolutely cannot wait for the time when my own life will settle down a bit and my fingers can play with my computer keys.
The question is, when will I find that time? I'm not sure I ever will, but I'm starting my search in 3, 2, 1...
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