Every day I go to my soul-sucking job and dream about the day I can quit and stay home and write. Story ideas flood my thoughts and my fingers itch to get in front of the keyboard. On my lunch I sit down and pull out my book and start reading…except I can’t concentrate. All I’m thinking about is dang, I want to be the one writing a book instead of the one reading one.
Yet when I’m home and have the time and energy to write, there’s something keeping me from doing so. I come up with excuse after excuse, knowing that not a single one of them is valid.
Why can’t I write?
I think part of my problem is I’ve gotten out of the habit. I thrive off routine and until I get back into sitting down at the computer every single day, I don’t believe it’ll happen.
So, here I am.
Am I writing my book that I’m halfway through with? No. Am I working on my novel that I’m two-thirds done with? Nope, not that one either.
But, it’s a step in the ‘write’ direction!
I know I’ll get there. I just will have to make baby steps in order to do so. I need my accountability partner to kick my butt.
I’ve got stories to tell dang it!