The Joy of NOT Writing

November for me was like spin cycle . . . on the back of a moving semi . . . with the brakes blown out. It was intense to say the least. I was doing a rather major rewrite of my latest novel for my publisher, my husband’s Grandpa died and I was in charge of the church Christmas Party.

But all good things come to an end, as do crazy and overwhelming things, and as of yesterday I am done! The rewrite I finished last week, the obituary bill has been paid and the church Christmas Party was a success if I do say so myself. And now what am I going to do?

Nothing.

Of course, nothing is a big deceiving, cause I’ll be doing a lot of somethings, but different somethings that have been sorely neglected—like cleaning out closets and hiring someone to fix the light in my closet so I can see whether or not the shirt is black or brown or red or purple. But as far as writing goes, I’m taking a break. One I feel I much deserve.

Let’s face it, there is only so much creativity to go around and quite frankly when my house is falling down around my ears and we’re having hot dogs for the third night in a row it’s hard to expect the muse to want to stick around anymore than the kids do. There must be a certain level of order amid the chaos and any order I had a month ago is long gone now. So it’s time to rebuild, organize, take a deep breath, admire the Christmas tree, do some shopping, make some cookies and snuggle with my sweetie on the couch.

Do I feel guilty? Yes, I do. I have been writing furiously for the last 10 months, deadlines looming and ideas bursting within my brain. But I’ve felt guilty about the hot dogs and the closet light too, so it’s all relative. In the meantime, until I sit down and spill out my literary brilliance come January, I am thinking, planning, having fictional dialogues in my head with characters I haven’t written yet and I’m loving every minute!

And so what’s the point of all this? Simply that there is a time and season for everything, and for everyone, and right now, for me, I’m taking the season to enjoy the egg nog and figgy pudding . . . okay, not the figgy pudding part—but perhaps a fig . . . Newton, maybe two.

Merry Christmas, may you find the time to enjoy it!