My hands hit the keyboard again and I felt as though they haven’t touched these rows of hard plastic in over twenty years. I write everyday whether the sun is shining or the cold and heavy showers of rain hurl down on top of me, but I feel as though this isn’t enough.
It’s as if writing poems and short stories were some “gateway drug” that forced me into needing to up my game, and like all the other hard street drugs out there, writing has taken over my life and has demanded all of my attention.
This incredible force of passion tying me to my writing utensils is making me feel as though writing during all my available free time isn’t enough.
I think I’m stuck trying to find a balance where I’m able to perfectly fit a full load of school, life, work, and writing all into the mix, and I’m left wondering how other authors can write amazing novels and still find that balance. Did I miss the memo during my time as an undergraduate student in English where they told you how to solve this, or is this something that I have to figure out on my own?
Jazzed About Stuff 