Seriously?

No time for creative writing, but I have made some costumes. And I want to post SOMEthing.

And that's all I have time for.

I wasn't kidding.

But what else should I really be doing right now? Nothing! Well, maybe sleeping. But other than that...nothing.

Which is vanishingly unusual!

I actually have been working a little on an old story, trying to get back into that world, get my mind to hover over the well of ideas. I tell myself that the well is not empty, it's only that I've stepped away from it. Could one say that I ran? Or that I was pulled and didn't believe that my beloved story was worth anything so let it go?

But I miss it so much!

If I have time to lament, I have time to write. Right? At least for a few minutes before turning off the light.

Tomorrow is my day off. I know enough not to expect great things, but I shall certainly have at least two hours for writing, and another two hours for starting a new costume piece.

The thing I like about sewing and knitting is that you end up with a tangible piece of work that you can wear or decorate a table with or keep someone you love warm. There is a definite point at which you can say "It's done!" and mean it, and it's usually within a manageable amount of time.

Stories though, stories continue to evolve, and the end just gets shoved further and further away as complications develop. I have an unwieldy mess on my hands and I don't know where to go from here. I don't even know where here is, because I have so many possible paths leading from several different crossroads.

I keep thinking I should drop this story and just move on to one of the several dozen I have started, written a few scenes for, outlined, written poetry for...but then something...my heart?...starts crying. I miss my characters so much! And yet, I don't make time for them because, well, I don't have time to make, but also, they are so complicated. What I feel I should do is just sit with them and listen.

Time, time time.