I’m not much of a goal setter. I had, however, really wanted to finish a draft this year. I wasn’t even hung up on which of my novels-in-progress it would be, as long as I finished something.
Now I’ve got strong doubts that’s going to happen.
Life this year has just continued last year’s trend of getting in the way of writing. The result – as a friend put it to me recently – it that the writing daemon feels so neglected it’s hiding somewhere, pouting and refusing to come out.
Considering I’m likely to be busy packing and changing jobs again in not-so-many weeks, I should probably just let him pout.
Still, I really did want to finish a draft…