I finished the outline for the YA assignment and emailed it to the editors an hour ago. “Finished” is a funny word. I could have worked on that outline all weekend. For weeks, really. It’s establishing a whole new cast of characters and although I know them better than I did some days ago I could still know more…
Stop. It’s out of my hands now. Sort of freeing, really. (Also I have another freelance assignment to dive into this weekend.)
A coworker came by yesterday and asked how I liked having all these freelance assignments. I said I liked it a lot. But how about your “real” writing, she asked, how’s that going? And you and I know the truth: it’s not. I have no time. It’s so sad to say I have no time for my own stuff. I wonder if I made the right decision to do all this and then I think: it happened and it’s happening and there’s no going back now.
I hope to get back to my “real” writing soon. Maybe this weekend, in between things. Maybe the inspiration will take me by force and I won’t be able to stop myself. I’m going to hope for that.