Yep, me too. I’m headed over to Substack. I will leave all this content here. Over there, I will make new posts and curate some of the best of the old stuff. As always, with a mind to inspire your writing.
Some past posts to keep you making time:
It’s about the routine and how you shake up the routine
There are things you will have to give up
Last weekend, we drove to Montana for the weekend. We are two high school teachers whose kids are all grown up now. This year we’re being intentional about trying to insert some get-aways throughout the school year. This was our first one. The whole idea is a bit impulsive, indulgent, and even a little risky. To leave school on a Thursday at 4, take that Friday off, and drive through the night to arrive at our rental cottage in the town of Hot Springs at three in the morning. The weekend was wonderful, but that’s not what I want to talk about here. What I want to talk about is the unexpected afterglow and its impact on my creative process.
I’ve been stuck in my writing. Feeling indecisive. Constantly working away at editing the same two books that at this point I can’t figure out why I wrote anyway. Believing that if I just approach it from a new angle, and edit that chapter one more time, I’ll be able to bring some life back into the projects. Not wanting to waste all that time I spent writing those thousands and thousands of words.
How many times have I written on this blog that I’m here for the joy of writing?
And yet here I am toiling away, not wanting to waste anything.
The morning after we returned from Montana, the decisions were suddenly so easy. Start the new book that has been simmering on the back burner for almost two years now, that is the one you think about and care about now. Let go of any questions about what will happen to those other books or whether anything will happen at all. Write more poetry, dammit. How long has it been since you let a flash storm of words through you onto the page? Remember where you started. Remember how you lifted one poem at a time into this love of words, this word realm where you can get at the deeper, wordless parts of you. A paradox.
Creative friends, this work demands structure and commitment, for sure. But is also demands risk, indulgence—impulsivity. Keeping these aspects in balance is a constant practice that thankfully we don’t have to do entirely alone.
Interested in hiring me as a coach to get you boosted with your writing goals? Find free resources and information here.
Some past posts to keep you making time:
It’s about the routine and how you shake up the routine
There are things you will have to give up
I’ve got a stretch of days with extra solitude. Chris is in New York geeking out over baseball and making memories with his siblings. Of course, I’ve turned it into a stay home writing retreat. After all, I am trying to meet a deadline, it’s summer, and this summer in particular creativity is my theme, my experiment, and the garden I’m growing this year.
I woke up this morning and poured about an hour of my time down the digital drain. But then I kicked myself in the ass and set a timer. Setting a timer to focus on just one thing for a set amount of time works for me. It’s a damn miracle, to be honest. It seems to kick invoke the little kid in me who showed up with everything she had when the teacher set the timer for a page of math equations or paragraphs to read. Oh, hell yes. Do you doubt me? Set that timer and watch me go.
Once I set the timer then I was in it. I stayed in it until it was time for yoga class, though it did get hard a few times when my mind landed on that old track that never has anything nice to say and wastes all her juice worrying about what other people will think.
Our yoga teacher invited us to “create space for ourselves” and described what setting a boundary looks like: “If I experience X, I will do Y”. Always need that reminder. For reals. You have to practice that shit all the time, and if you don’t use it, you lose it. Getting good at setting boundaries is not only good for you. It’s good for the people you take care of in your life too. That’s one thing I try to remember when I need to set a difficult boundary. Boundaries are an act of love and service to others. They give others permission to do the same. They make space for other people to do the work, solve problems, and take action.
I was so grateful for this nugget offered mid-retreat today. When doubts about the worthiness of my story come up, I will keep writing. If I worry about the structure, I will keep writing. If I fall into contemplation of the publishing industry as it is, I will keep writing. For today, I will keep writing like I’ve got something to prove that is even more important than proving that I’ve mastered math facts.
More retreat time tomorrow and the next day, with the goal of finishing a new draft of a novel I’ve been working on off and on for almost a decade. This summer is about tying up loose ends so that I can start a fresh book in the fall. Whatever it is you are working on, I am here for you. Let’s make time.
Interested in hiring me as a coach to get you boosted with your writing goals? Find free resources and information here.
Some past posts to keep you making time:
It’s about the routine and how you shake up the routine
There are things you will have to give up
Dear, dear creative friends,
It’s been too long. I am writing to let you know I am still here making time. The need is more urgent than ever, because in spite of how you might think it should be (teacher in summer and all that), all this loose time can be hard to tame. And this summer I am desperate to get some writing done.
It’s been all I can do these past many months to keep a small trickle of words flowing through my creative faucet. The balance of creative impulse and creative flow has been out of whack and this sense of futility had started to creep in. You know the one. How does anyone ever write a book anyway? It’s not like you’ll ever make much money from all this work and you already have a job that covers what you need. Imagine all that time you’d have to read books and watch TV if you just gave up this whole writing charade. You all probably know what a load of crap that is. The practice of writing is the reward, there is an impulse to write that is an integral part of who you are. You do it because you love it because through the process you become a better, more compassionate version of you.
But I didn’t give up, and as soon as summer appeared on the horizon, I made a plan. There was no way I was going to pass through this summer with a sparkling clean house, a weeded garden, and barely any progress on my novel. Oh, hell no, as my good friend Carrie would say.
What’s the plan?
It’s so simple.
And it is working!
Each day from wake up to noon? Creative time.
No phone. No chores. Not even loading the dishwasher or anything else I tell myself I can do real quick. I do make coffee and walk the dogs, but then it is time to write. I have a small accountability group I check in with daily. So far this week I’ve edited seven chapters and gotten back to practicing guitar.
As luck would have it, There is often a yoga class offered at noon at my studio. I’ve been walking over there after my focused work and letting my yoga practice be my bridge back into the day-to-day work of householding.
My hope is to have a new draft of my novel by the end of July. Are you making time this summer? What are you working at?
Hubby is trying to get some songs recorded, so we’ve agreed to help each other prioritize creativity first every day.
Interested in hiring me as a coach to get you boosted with your writing goals? Find free resources and information here.
Some past posts to keep you making time:
It’s about the routine and how you shake up the routine
There are things you will have to give up
I had five poems left to write, and I stalled. It wasn’t just the poems. It was everything. Lately I’ve been having more trouble than I’d like to admit making time. It’s not just the scarcity of minutes of the day; It’s more than that. This voice has been creeping in, asking me what the hell I think I’m doing working for all these years–for what?! It may have something to do with the fact that my doctor put me on high blood pressure medicine. This knocked me for a loop, because I eat healthy and exercise and avoid processed foods, which means that it is probably stress, which I have to admit I’ve been living off forever.
This sent me into one of those who do you think are/what makes you think you’re a writer phases. I was giving some advice I needed to another writer Saturday when my own advice smacked me right back–Do you hear yourself, dummy? I was reminding this other writer that we write because we have to, because we love it, because through the act of writing we discover and explore what we think and believe. We strengthen our vision, our empathy, our ability to appreciate the beauty of art and practice. So, on Mother’s Day,I sat in a reclining lawn chair on my front porch and busted out the rest of the poems for April. So, here they are. I hope you’ll write along with me in April 2024!
Keep making time, peeps. Even when you are writing through the muck of doubt and despair. You deserve this. You are enough.
Day 22
Attunement
Discord happens
while we just get through the days.
A chorus of I-love-yous maybe can’t make up
for the times I focused on the ways you don’t,
the days you soloed through my loneliness.
So, I am grateful for moments of attunement,
where we take the time to listen,
mimic,
call and response,
until we’re one instrument for a while.
Day 23
Staff Picks
Sometimes I go to the bookstore and only
look at the staff picks,
read the little cards of each.
I love best when they are handwritten, signed.
Words:
hope
devastating
lyric
illuminating
It will change you.
What a peace I feel to be
in a world or people longing
to be changed by books.
Day 24
Ode to Monday
Sometime around the time
masks started coming off,
I resolved to reframe you.
To be going back to work and still
beating out the old refrain–”Well, it’s Monday”–
As if Mondays aren’t perfect days
for laughing, falling in love,
breaking the rules.
Day 25
Summer (Sestina)
So, we’ve arrived, another season of sun–
the ch-ch-ch of sprinklers, time
to play, open the door,
walk out in wonder,
flow like a river, blue-green.
It’s okay to spin your wheels.
I spent entire summers on wheels
riding the entiere stay of each day’s sun.
I remember you, eyes blue-green,
the way you mocked time.
Did you ever wonder–
as I did–what was behind that door?
One summer can be a door.
Fires within fires; wheels within wheels.
Every day, chasing wonder–
fever-pitch with each returning sun–
believing there will be time.
Whole day spent listening to one CD, feeling blue-green.
I had this sun dress, blue-green
that I wore when I walked out the door
knowing, even then, I would not be home on time.
We had wheels!
And even after dark, the sun
glowed with our insistent wonder.
We made sandwiches out of Wonder–
hah! Took them to the lake, blue-green,
lounged on towels in the sun,
our hearts–wide open doors.
We would locate a feeling, spin it like a wheel,
round and round again, frozen in time.
Summer has its own rules regarding time.
Hopping from wonder to wonder,
letting loose the wheels.
Heart–aimed at blue-green.
Flinging wide the doors.
Long days spent half-naked in the sun.
Day 26
Perspective
A blown dandelion
Tulip that lost it’s petals
One day–a big gorgeous poppy–
the next day gone.
There are many ways I could respond
to the fact of a lifespan.
I choose kisses,
cartwheels,
favorite songs.
Day 27
Mother’s Day
I’ve hit the phase of motherhood
where unless disaster is for certain
all I am called to do is
cheer
from the sidelines
offer humble guidance
and pray.
Day 28
Lilacs
Lilacs brag, fragrant.
Dliecate. Plentiful. Boom!
Bloom babies, Oh-bloom!
Day 29
Hot Day
Sweat behind knees,
no matter how much coffee drank–
on the verge of nap.
Day 30
Testing Days
Standardize this, man!
Who even still thinks this is
not oppressive AF?!
Interested in hiring me as a coach to get you boosted with your writing goals? Find free resources and information here.
Some past posts to keep you making time:
It’s about the routine and how you shake up the routine
There are things you will have to give up
Had some struggles this week. No prompts were speaking to me. Not a whole lot of breathing room, let alone poem-writing room in a day. Quite a few responsibilities came to bear their full weight. It wasn’t easy, but I got it done and I’m now moving on the Week 3 looking at that light at the end of the tunnel and running for it with my arms up high and a big-ass grin on my face. It’s not too late to join me in writing a poem-a-day this April.
Here are some places you can get prompts:
Day 15
Staff Yoga Class with Sam
I invited the entire staff
FREE yoga, I cried!
Once my student, now my peer,
you arrived ready to teach.
Though it was time,
no one arrived,
so we sat on our mats
face to face, chatting. We were both
nervous–me, because as my idea
I’d imagined it grand and well-attended.
We would both teach–you one class,
me another. Teachers would set down their ungraded papers,
flock to staff yoga. We were both nervous–
You, because this was your day to teach,
and teaching is still new to you.
There was a moment before someone finally arrived
when I saw our selves like mirrors, each reflecting back to the other.
I saw your earnest smile, the joy behind your eyes.
In that moment, nervousness fled, and I felt
quite suddenly so happy to be so vulnerable and there.
Day 16
“Suffering maims” –Victor Pelerin
About suffering they were never wrong, he wrote.
The human condition.
And yet–no mud, no lotus–
it is true.
When I consider the spectrum of suffering,
I feel deeply grateful that I’ve
endured just enough to have deep roots in the soil,
a tough outer bark,
adornments (leaves) that thrive
and shimmer in the breeze.
Day 17
Prompt: Write a haiku
Leave-cups
Raindrops collect
on the cups of leaves–reserve.
Intelligent nature.
Day 18
Prompt: Write a love poem
It’s easy to lie,
say you’ve entered a new phase–
a more settled, mature phase
no longer achingly desperate,
no longer prioritizing desire over
risk of exposure or embarassment.
It’s easy to lie here,
reading our books in silence,
say this is all I need,
this isn’t boredom
or a failure of communication–
it’s just this age, this phase–
which is sometimes true,
but not always
and it isn’t always easy
to find the language at those times–I need
a codeword. Fire!, perhaps. Or–
hand.
Day 19
Sour
A bit of an acquired taste, I suppose.
Small children tend to hate it.
Perhaps the tongue gets bored,
begins to want something shocking,
pucker-worthy.
Fierce and bright.
Something with equal parts
danger and delight.
Day 20
Maya
We call you bullet.
Fast like a bullet,
but with bounce and grace.
You’re slower these days,
not so bad for an old lady though. Old lady,
who loves
napping in sunbeams
hiding under blankets
walks that happen on time
not stepping out into the rain
silence, kisses, and carpets.
Day 21
Prompt: Write a poem using these six words: bow, lean, park, saw, tear, wound
In upward-bow, I lean,
rock like a saw,
then park on my belly.
Sometimes through a tear in my armor,
a wound escapes and breathes with me a while–
heart open–fearce–about to break,
I heal.
Interested in hiring me as a coach to get you boosted with your writing goals? Find free resources and information here.
Some past posts to keep you making time:
It’s about the routine and how you shake up the routine
There are things you will have to give up
I know, I know. It’s a little crazy to be trying to write one poem a day for the entire month of April, especially when these last few months have been some of the most challenging I’ve seen in years for making time. In the past three months, I’ve had one weekend that wasn’t full of obligations on my time. I’ve got three fiction projects sweetly simmering and begging for attention. But. It’s April. It’s been more than fifteen years since I didn’t make an attempt at poem-a-day. Why?
It brings me joy. It provides a low-stakes opportunity to play with language, form, and concepts. It leads to an entire month spent doing what poetry does best: shining a light on the wonders of our lives, packaging those wonders in a short, concentrated form that can be taken in a short burst of concentration.
Here are the seven poems I wrote last week. Onward to week 3!
Day 8.
“But I was so sad that evening: I understand—as I have understood at different points in my life—that the childhood isolation of fear and loneliness would never leave me. My childhood had been a lockdown.” Elizabeth Strout, Lucy by the Sea
Sometimes for a long time, I forget,
and then I’ll freeze at the sight of her standing there,
just outside the door,
her hands tucked inside long sleeves, downcast eyes,
the me before me.
But, lately, I’ve been inviting her
to meditate with me at my imagined place
on the grass watching the still pond,
wondering at how the wind ripples the surface.
She just showed up one day,
sat down beside me, leaned in.
I put my arm around her shoulders,
whispered so glad you’re here.
Then the light broke through the clouds,
sent a shimmer across the surface.
Day 9.
“Toward the end of July, I had a massive panic attack, and as a result, many things in my life changed; huge changes were made.” Elizabeth Strout, Lucy by the Sea
Be grateful, she said,
as she coaxed us out of savasana
at the end of a practice
that brought me to the edge of possible.
Be grateful, for everything
that has brought you to this moment.
And I thought of how I’d gone to the emergency room,
my roadrunner heart in midair
not just one time, and doesn’t count
the times I decided to die alone.
I thought of how desperation brought me
to the yoga mat, where I began to heal.
Day 10.
“However, as each doll is placed inside a larger doll, over time the light of the innermost doll is forgotten. If you see the entire set of dolls put together, from the outside, you see only one doll—the outer shell. It’s easy to forget but you are so much more than just what you see, that you are the light and that light is radiance, truth, and beauty.” Tracee Stanley, Radiant Rest
A person inside
a person
inside a person—
Russian dolls—
faces to meet the faces.
Inside, a gem
that’s polished up,
ready to shine.
Day 11.
“I know how to work. Rest requires devotion and practice on my part.” Tracee Stanley, Radiant Rest
It’s difficult to unlearn
when you’ve elbow-greased it
for epochs, and entire relationships
rest on the foundation of our doing,
and it is the stuff you’ve made you’ve made
your potluck offerings of since you learned to make rice.
There is so much patterning to unwind
and so many reasons
to recline in this hammock
counting stars to fall asleep.
Day 12.
“Hoping to live days of greater happiness, I forget that days of less happiness are passing by.” –Elizabeth Bishop
I’d like to apologize
to ever Monday I ever shunned,
every day I clock watched my way through
every cloudy sky I didn’t admire.
Hello, sweet sadness.
Let’s sit a while, see if
we can understand each other.
I want to be so angry
the dishes in the cupboard clatter.
I want to let my grief stay long enough
to say all she needs to say,
stay a while in silence.
I’ve wasted too much time
already waiting for the wanderer, happiness.
Day 13.
Prompt: Write a forgive poem.
Come hither, love.
Let me place my hands
where you are holding on
to fear or doubt or hurt or anger.
Give me all the weight.
Let it go.
Yes, even the weight of
my words
my action
my inaction
my misjudgment
misidentification
my limited human imagination.
Forgive me,
I can be so small and unkind.
Day 14.
Prompt: And now for something completely different.
Bee-watching.
Olives on fingers!
Rock-skipping.
Echo making.
Dahlia viewing.
Ocean breathing.
Mmmmmmmm.
Interested in hiring me as a coach to get you boosted with your writing goals? Find free resources and information here.
Some past posts to keep you making time:
It’s about the routine and how you shake up the routine
There are things you will have to give up
Every year for more than a decade, I’ve been doing the poem-a-day challenge in April. This year is no exception! Will you join me? Share your poems to keep me inspired along the way?
I’ll be posting here by the week, which means I’ll have to save this post in draft and get caught up from the past three days before I publish this post. Do you see that little extra motivation I stacked up for myself? Haha.
I know that a poem a day might seem like a lot, but it doesn’t have to be. I set a timer and give it my best shot. What I write is what I write. I figure if I get at least a few gems by the end of the month, it’s been worth it to me. Most importantly, it’s an opportunity to play with words in a focused, concentrated way.
In the past, I’ve often used prompts, and there are many websites that offer them. I’ll post a few below. This year, I’m trying something different. It came to me when reading Awakening Artemis a few days ago. I came across a quote that rapped so insistently on the door of my heart that I had to use it, so I did. I enjoyed that process so much that I decided to spend this month collecting quotes from what I read to use as the basis for my poems.
Here are some places you can get prompts:
Here are my poems so far:
Day 1
Sunrise Breakfast at the Yoga Retreat
Woke vulnerable,
reliant on someone else’s schedule,
the fact that someone else
would pour hot water through coffee grounds
so that I could hold that assurance
between two quivering palms.
A plant on the path—
a circle of fronds
in the center a pool of water collected,
a pond where tiny lavender flowers
dared to bloom.
Day 2
Prayer
The clock that is a year ticks toward fifty,
and I release the intense level of care around time
we cultivate when still trying to earn worth
in the adult world.
How many years was I a mother before I felt like one?
How many years a teacher before I believed I had anything in me worth learning?
How many years before I felt like a person worthy of grace in the world?
I see now that belonging is a given
but not a guarantee.
May I keep my hands in dirt,
keep my hands on the keyboard,
keep my hands around our children who are now
trying to earn their worth in the so-called adult world.
May I cultivate grace.
May I cultivate beauty.
May I cultivate a warrior spirit–theirs and mine.
Letting the foundation be there,
in the confident stance,
the resilience and flexibility of breath.
May I be bold enough to love,
in spite of the tendency to see the blemish before the bloom.
Day 3
Sores
Similar to scars,
only temporary.
Like this cold sore
acquired from an early boyfriend,
that sometimes comes out,
never at a convenient time.
A sign of contagion,
our eyes see,
then turn away.
Day 4
“When I listen to my hunger, the wildflowers of my passion and focus can break through pavement to guide me into light.” –Vanessa Chakour, Awakening Artemis
Hunger
I went to the kitchen
with a mission from God
as I understand them,
reflected in a wildflower,
a Whitman poem.
I ate and ate,
never felt full.
I walked one thousand miles
to a pool of enchanted water
I’m still swimming in.
Day 5
“The purpose of art is washing the dust of daily life off our souls.” –Pablo Picasso
Making sense
Woke up to write again
after a pause
and it felt a bit like spring cleaning:
Slowly, carefully washing the windows,
shaking out the carpets,
chasing dust bunnies from corners,
from under the couches and chairs.
I wrote two pages
on the verge of tears
and for the rest of the day
the world made more sense.
Day 6
“By trying to avoid our death our world becomes lifeless.” Vanessa Chakour, Awakening Artemis
What It Means To Be Dying
Okay, I get it. We all do.
Live like you could die tomorrow,
because,
of course,
you could.
Or today!
And still. That’s not a call to recklessness,
but an invitation to go slow, pay attention,
move with care and intention.
There is so much life
in a still pond,
a slow drive,
a full breath.
Day 7
“Walking is how the body measures itself against the earth.” –Rebecca Solnit
I Walked out in a Rage
I walked out in a rage
at you, but also at me,
because I keep finding myself
in this same place so it must mean that some fundamental mechanism
is not attached in me,
in me, in me.
Each foot hits the ground in a rhythm
the breath begins to match,
and though it is raining,
there is a full moon and
the cool water on my face–
earth’s baptism!
I remember then how just yesterday
we slowly ate a pomegranate and agreed
that life is a series of love letters,
including the one I’ll write to you with words in air
when I return to apologize and demand.
Still riding a yoga high from an early morning yoga class, on my walk to work this morning, this blog post landed on me. A few things that were said/moments I experienced over the last week or so came together and clicked for me. That feeling, at that moment, may be the closest I’ll ever get to my fantasy of being able to stop time and move around in it like Evie in Out of this World.
The thing that clicked for me has everything to do with the theme of this blog–Make Time. What I realized is that “busyness” is relative and time as we know it does not exist.
Let me explain. I am in my third week of yoga teacher training (which adds up to at least 20 hours a weekend, sometimes more). I’m working on renewal of my National Boards certification for teaching. I’m teaching full-time. I’m helping a talented woman get her stories out and into the world by editing and designing her book. Plus a few other things on the side. I’m guessing you’re thinking right now that I sound “busy”, and that I don’t have time. I’ve certainly been in spots like this where I felt that too. Not this time.
“Busyness” is getting flayed a bit by wellness culture right now. A problem is: we define “busyness” by the number of things we fill our schedules with or have on our to-do lists. From what I can tell “busyness” is a state of mind. If I try to hold things in the future in my mind, I am busy. If I can stay present in the moment and do one thing at a time, I can pack a day to the brim and never feel busy at all. This will require a few things: practice, trust, and an open mind. Our minds run on the tracks we’ve laid out for them through repetition, so staying present will take practice. It may also require you to get your phone habits in check., because our devices are creating terrible habits of mind on top of everything else. Be patient and practice. Trust plays a role here. To be present, we need to trust that the future will arrive and that we will be present for it. What about an open mind? Well, it may turn out that on that list of thirty things you’re simultaneously thinking about doing, a third of them may never happen. A lot of “busy” people actually aren’t doing much at all. They are too paralyzed by how busy everything is.
And then there is time. Our most precious resource, right? Yet, ironically, the more we think about how limited time is and try to hold it fast, the faster it goes and the less of it we have. In one sense, these past few weeks I’ve had less time. However, since so much of that time has been spent developing a mindfulness practice, I do not feel short on time. In fact, I feel sort of amazed at how much more time I have than I thought. My days are more packed for sure, but I feel as though I am moving in slow motion when I’m really in it. I’m certainly not thinking about not having time.
We make time by staying present for the moment we’re in and letting go of our obsession with how limited time is. It is limited, of course. And no one knows just how much time they have. That’s the paradox. To savor the time we have, we need to trust and be. And you don’t need to be an alien from another planet like Evie to have her superpowers.
Interested in hiring me as a coach to get you boosted with your writing goals? Find free resources and information here.
Some past posts to keep you making time:
It’s about the routine and how you shake up the routine
There are things you will have to give up
Last week, I finished a collection of stories I’ve been working on for twelve maybe thirteen years. I have memories of a retreat I went on with a writer friend somewhere along the way where I mapped out all the stories and their interconnections using overlapping circles and colored markers. This friend took a picture of me lying belly down on the deck of the cabin where we were staying. I look happy in the picture. I had finished the task of planning. That was twelve years ago.
I came across that diagram the other day when I was cleaning out my file cabinet. Reviewing it’s contents, I had to laugh. So much had changed! The story hadn’t gone at all the way I thought it would. Characters names had changed. The order of stories and their titles too were unrecognizable to me. The seed idea was sort of the same, but even that had evolved to be something more specific than I had started with.
As I was writing the last story in the collection, an insight came up for me that I’d had before. One of those lessons as a writer or a practicer of anything that we have to learn over and over. It is of course the goal of writing to some day finish. And by finish I mean feel satisfied that you’ve done all you can with a piece, that it really is time to send it on it’s way into the world to see how it goes. The problem is that when we focus on finishing, we compromise the work itself.
Writing is a practice of staying in the moment, of being willing to be honest and present enough to bring the words to life. If in the back of your mind your desire to finish is nagging away, it will infect your work. The focus and attention to the moment of each story became more difficult to sustain the closer I got to the end. I kept starting and stopping because when my mind strayed to the future where I was finished, I knew the writing would be no good. It reminded me of the stories Dillard tells in The Writing Life about some of the crazy things writers do to keep themselves in the flow.
So I’ve “finished” and am taking a brief pause in taking up any big projects, taking the time to do some deep yoga work and write frivolous poems and stories for a few months. Four of the stories in the collection have found a place in the literary world. Below are links to where you can read those stories. Look for the whole collection in the not so distant future.
May you make time and find flow, friends.
The stories:
Interested in hiring me as a coach to get you boosted with your writing goals? Find free resources and information here.
Some past posts to keep you making time:
It’s about the routine and how you shake up the routine
There are things you will have to give up