I’m not going to find myself some excuses, but it was quite hard to write every day in the merry month of May, where there are so many public holidays, family gatherings and vacation days to finish off (by May 31st, any vacation day not taken is lost in French complex benefits system). I thought I was firmly into the habit by now, but the truth is that it’s still a daily struggle.
Strangely enough, I have a lot more difficulty to write when I am at home and with some “free” time than when I’m at work, with a fixed schedule and a lot of interruptions by phone calls and urgent demands. Well, that’s not so strange after all. A boss and dozens coworkers and suppliers are a lot more predictable than a toddler and a 7 years old, aren’t they?
Anyway, the result is that I wrote 26 days out of 31, leaving 5 days on the side. I experienced a bad case of startitis, starting posts and stories in every direction, but having little energy to finish stuff.
All these unfinished business is weighing on me and inducing a sort of guilt and anxiety that is all but positive for the creative process.
In the meantime, as we were driving from one place to the next for family gatherings, I was reminded how traveling can be meditative (if the kids are sleeping, that is) and very positive for thinking up new stories. I suddenly remembered a draft of a few pages I’d started years ago when I was in the Cotswolds, and I am considering taking this one up again.