Yesterday I didn’t do any writing but ran all over the world getting ready for the start of school. I didn’t even feel bad about it until later in the evening when I considered writing something just to check a box for the day. I didn’t do that, and now I’m not sure if I should have or not.
I do know that it made me realize daily writing, at least in a formal sense, will be much harder to do when school starts again. I’m pondering how to structure my week so I can keep up with my reading, and increase my writing, but still manage to do everything I need to do. Right now, I think I’m going to try to keep up here maybe three – four days a week and dedicate my non-preschool days to a block of fiction writing. I have a project I think could get off the ground by spring, but I haven’t really made any effort to touch it in a long time.
As far as reading, I’m spending the twilight of summer diving into books I’ve already loved. I don’t have to concentrate on the plot as much as the mood and language, letting the writing transport and soothe me without the need to push through pages to discover what happens. It’s a source of comfort for me when other things are ramping up my anxiety, and I’m counting the books toward my annual count.
Speaking of the annual count, I’m questioning whether or not I like the tracking of books and reading goals. Is my focus on the number or the quality or what? I can’t decide. I’m not sure it makes sense for me to quantify one of my favorite past times the way I’ve been doing it, yet I can’t help but chase the dopamine rush of meeting (or beating) a goal.
Is it any surprise that the majority of my August posts are “musings” instead of anything substantial?
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