In a supreme twist of accidental fortune-telling, my last blog post was about how hard it is to find time to work on my creative writing. And for all my good intentions, I proceeded to fall off the wagon into a ditch somewhere and I just sort of stayed there until now.
It’s impossible to escape the selfish aspect of writing: that of some part of you living on after you’re gone, your voice echoing into the future from beyond the last day of your life.
I was going to turn this into a piece about how writing isn’t easy, and you should never think it is from either end (either as an author or as a consumer of the written word).
What’s your secret to prioritizing the creative aspects of your life?
At my current stage of life, my creative writing has to be intentional.
The National Endowment for the Humanities (NEH) has released its list of grant awards and offers, totaling US$24 million distributed among 225 projects all over the United States (and one in Canada).
A flash fiction piece I submitted to Silver Birch Press a couple months ago has gone out in to the world!
My “pile” hasn’t been an actual pile in years—rather, it is an entire bookshelf all its own. That’s right, I have a whole bookshelf in my office that exists solely to house the books I own but have yet to read.
