The holiday season is wonderful! The family, the gift-giving, everything. Everything, that is, except for the writing hiatus that - at least for me - is unavoidable.
Until this week, I've hardly written anything in the last couple of months. Granted, much of that is because having two boys off of school for the summer required almost all of my attention. Still, I've felt so disconnected from my writing, and that is NOT a good feeling. Seriously. I get crabby and stressed when I don't write. Not a good combination for me.
But this week provided the perfect incentive to fire up the engines again: a deadline for a submission. I started my story a few days ago (procrastinate much, Rebekah?) and just finished the second half in the last hour (including a few minutes of internet research). That's the kind of writing I love - the rush of words that gets the bones of the story down, followed up with a few revisions to tweak everything in just the right places.
And so, now that I've sent off my story, I can sit back and relish the feeling of accomplishment. Sure, my work may not be accepted. But I've finished a story that I'm proud of, one that expresses what I wanted it to and in exactly the right way. And more importantly, I've reconnected with my old friend, rekindled that old flame, and remembered the passion I have for writing.