The rarer of these occasions will find me at my computer, typing like a madman, unable to type as fast as my brain comes up with ideas. If I am writing on one particular project, those are some of the most fruitfull experiences. If instead I am simply writing to keep my mind excercised or to compose a short story or article, the files get saved and remain dormant somewhere within the recesses of that electronic black box.
In the past, I have had the luxury of specifically set aside times each day to write, but lately I primarily have only one small time slot during the week to write my great American novel. Sadly, these boxed in timeslots are often accompanied by an internal conflicted desire to simply relax. Sometimes that is just what I do.
Because my current status as a writer is more as a hobbyist than a career, I find it suitable to enjoy both the times of creation and relaxation. It has taken me a number of years to accept the fact that my novel will not be written this week, but each time I pen a scene or chapter, I feel a sense of accomplishment.
I rest in the hope that one day the story in my head will land in your hands, and the years of toil and rest will bring you joy and excitement.
