Life and Writing, an assessment

Why does life seem to get in the way of all plans?

I had intended to be well on my way towards completition of my novel, have several short stories submitted for publication, have the business book that I am co-authoring nearing completion, finish a play that I'm in the second act of, etc., etc., etc.

Life interviens. Work. Dating. Career. Pursuit of love. Dissappointments. Triumphs.

The creative flame that was once burning brightly is flickering, the heart still beats, but the hand no long writes. The interest and passion is still there and my mind turns to it briefly during the day but demands for other things sidetrack me. I can see why Raymond Chandler was not too prolific. To live to write, you must live.

The life I wish to live is no longer nine to five, punch the clock, get the pension. Money, for sure, is very important but relationships are more so. The American dream, as advertised, no longer holds any interest.

So, off I go, chasing dragons to slay, damsils to save, and to write.

To write.

I am recommiting to writing every day. If it's any good, I'll post some here...

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