Back in the Saddle

I'm actually writing again. What happened? Months of not writing, telling myself that my path is to be a reader. Then that familiar depression weighing down on me, and the obsessive tendency to translate everything that happens into a story in my head.

Oh, and, embarrassingly enough, I read the last Harry Potter book... And then I read all seven of them again, in a row. It was entirely entertaining and reminded me (in a sweet, simple way) of why I love to read. And I don't just read, of course, because I am a writer. Everything I love to read inspires me to write. So thanks, J.K. Rowling.

I've started a piece of writing, which I am calling a story, although I secretly intend it to be a novel. I am hopelessly drawn to the craft of the novel, ever since I was a kid. I've also begun to read Bel Canto by Ann Patchett, to make amends to the literary world after my affair with Harry Potter.

So. I'm on thirty minutes a day. Trying to do it in the morning, but am having a hard time hauling myself out of bed on these rainy winter mornings. So I'll do it in the evenings if I have to. Trying to do it every day, but I need to get my self-discipline back up.


(photo of j.k. rowling)