Tag: random

Somewhere on my old computer is a drawing I did of a certain truck that sputtered to a stop somewhere out west on 1-10, leading a girl to meet a boy and a dog and getting her life changed forever. I think the truck in the drawing looks a lot like this one I saw recently. Funny how something real can make you desperately miss someone who’s not real except in your head and maybe in the hearts of a few readers. Jandy, Sam, and Sue, thank you for being part of my life.

There are days when I work so many hours with unrelenting concentration that when I finally get to a stopping point… I can’t sleep. My brain wants to keep going. You might think those are the times when it would be logical to write. If you think this, you are probably not a writer. Writing takes not only focus, but energy, and my brain may want to keep going, but my body says, “Nope.”

I try to remember how I used to maintain a career and also write, then I remind myself I had nights and weekends off. And later, I worked part time and wrote. Then I committed to the most austere budget and lifestyle imaginable and wrote full time.

Now, it’s hard for me to explain the time demands of what I do. I work every day. Sometimes I work early mornings then stop, and work again at night. Sometimes I work in several two- or three-hour intervals then stop. Seven days a week. Even if work is slow, I’m available to do what needs to be done when it picks up.

In the slow times, the last thing I want to do is be at a computer. This is why I never get my email answered. By the time I have time to read and answer email, I can’t stand being at my desk. So I read novels and run errands and clean stuff (and oh so rarely cook) and sometimes now, unpack and put away stuff that’s coming from storage. I try to spend time with my family and friends. I play a lot of Words With Friends on my phone, and I love Instagram (again, phone, not desk), and I never Facebook (it’s crazy how much time I saved once I abandoned Facebook).

Then at night, when I leave the computer and put away the phone, when what I most wish I could do is sleep but sleep won’t come, and I have to hear three dogs and one man snoring happily away, there’s always coloring. Since my teddy bear is in storage and I couldn’t sleep with him even if he were here–three dogs would end Dr. Neil who’s been with me since I was three–I can at least color myself a teddy bear. Coloring does not require the focus and energy that creating art would. I guess it’s the equivalent of a warm glass of milk. I don’t drink milk. So I color.