Has always been my lucky day. Maybe Willie will walk through my door. Although at 71, perhaps he is best left to my daydreams.
I’m beginning to think that my shop, being rural and single focused, is both my opportunity and nemesis. I’m left alone too much; given too much time to think. Create, yes, and ride up and down moods like broncobusting a horse.
I do worry, though, that losing the discipline of structured classroom and homework will too easily appeal to my naturally lazy nature and there won’t be much production of real story put out. I can tell myself that I’ll do it–and the writing here in a weblog is not justifiable as story–but I’m too tolerant of my own procrastinating ways and too easily led astray.
Maybe I can pretend I have a deadline.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology