The Moratorium

As you may recall, I'm taking a vacation from writing this month. Other than writing in this blog, I've determined to not write anything until the New Year. I'm giving myself a guilt-free break, to rejuvenate my writing spirit and, hopefully, get my thoughts together enough to start again with new determination.

There have been moments when I really itched to sit down at the screen. Ideas for scenes that I really wanted to pound out, but decided to just file away in the memory bank for later. I've come up with a new story idea (wow! how original, Lynn!!) that calls like a siren's song, but I've resisted the urge to develop characters other than what occurs when I let myself think about possible situations and basic whos and whats and whys. In effect, I've stepped back to that place where I began, as a kid, when I would tell myself stories at night to put myself to sleep, never intending to show them to anyone else.

I can't say that this self-imposed moratorium on writing has helped my brain get its act together as far as what to work on when. I still have too many starts, not nearly enough middles, and zero ends. I can't say the picture of how this should all come together is any clearer for me. I honestly don't know that it ever will be. I think I may be destined to fly by the seat of my pants in that one area.

And last night, my husband informed me how disappointed he'd be if I never reached the point where I was submitting a lot of stuff. He doesn't say this because he views me as a bum who is too lazy to get things done but more that he knows it is something that I really want to do, have the opportunity to do, and have no excuse not to do. He'd be disappointed if I squandered this chance to pursue a dream, and I can't blame him this sentiment. But dang, now I have his expectations settling across my shoulders. I'm now accountable.

What I have accomplished this month is some reading. I've seen a handful of movies. I've done some volunteer work for my church, and I've spent time helping with the kids' various holiday parties. Not to mention the multitude of holiday chores that crop up this time of year, like cookie baking and gift wrapping. I've been busy enough that had I decided to keep writing, not a whole lot would have gotten done anyway. Especially during this last week, with two kids running under-foot 24/7 and being far louder and rowdier than I ever imagined two kids could be.

And I've found that I do miss it. I miss writing. I miss it a lot. Which proves to me that it's something I need to do.

Because this was also kind of a test. If I went a whole month without writing and found myself not too awfully sad about it, I figured I needed to step back and take a good, cold look at what it is I really want.

Now I'm kind of itching for January 1st. Well, January 3rd, actually. The Day The Kids Return To School.