There is such relief in getting back to writing again.

Not correcting page proofs, or worrying about the book launch for my upcoming music memoir in January, or even blogging. 

But actual writing.  Getting immersed again in that joyous process, not knowing where it will lead.  Stealing moments: on the train, in between patients at work. Thinking about it at night, before I fall asleep. 

I agreed to submit something to my writing group next week, hoping to break up the logjam.  I almost decided to re-work the bio on my website instead.  But I didn't succumb!   I had to do something more real than that.  Finally I did, two days ago.  I went back to a project I had started and then had to set aside, when I got swallowed up in final edits for Accordion Dreams.

I had started working on a mystery, had a long synopsis and two chapters done.   So I went back and looked at some feedback I'd received from the writing group.  Then I had the bright idea of trying to re-cast the narrative in first person rather than third.  It sure makes a difference !  (I am very new to fiction, so excuse my naivete!)  My heroine seems to be taking on a life of her own.  I just hope she doesn't turn into me, now that she has her own voice.

What I'm writing probably isn't so important--just that I am finally doing it.  And I am having some fun with it.

Naturally, I got derailed  this morning.   Friday I work at home, so I hoped to get a lot done.  But I got involved in e-mails, worries about promotion issues, then a friend called and wanted to stop by.  And now I have errands to run...

But at least I've started back.