When life gets in the way of your writing, you’re supposed to write anyway. I failed to heed that advice.

I missed two Sundays of posts here, admittedly, for good reasons, though I realize that even these good reasons shouldn’t have kept me from producing… something. To be fair to myself, I did write a good portion of a chapter in my third book, and did some editing, but it wasn’t as much as I should have done in the last few weeks.

I caught some weird stomach bug, stomach flu, maybe, I don’t know. But whatever it was, it rendered me pretty useless for awhile. At its worst, I couldn’t sleep, eat, or work, was largely curled up in a helpless ball on the couch waiting for the next time I’d throw up. This all happened around when I was moving to a new apartment, so you can imagine how brilliant that timing was.

The lesson I choose to take away from it all is that even when you feel like the hand of death is on your throat, you can still manage to do something. Somehow I managed to still move boxes and furniture even when it sounded more appealing to simply kill myself and be done with it. This means that had I chosen to focus my will on it, I could’ve written more. Perhaps in my weakened state, the little critic inside my head, the one saying that anything I write while sick would be shite, won out.

Now I understand that it’s better to write, even something, when you’re beaten down, weak, when you can think of nothing but sweet sleep and the longing to even be able to keep water down, than nothing. Even if my blogs would’ve been crap, at least crap can be worked with, after all, even the prettiest garden has to start from some kind of compost or fertilizer, eh?

So, unless I get hit by a car or an asteroid decides to snuff me out, I’ll endeavor to stay committed to my regularly scheduled writing.

Also, stay tuned for my review of John Wick 2 tomorrow!

FIN