“We do not write because we want to; we write because we have to.” ― W. Somerset Maugham

I’ve been trying to get to my blog all day. Not sure when it happened, but suddenly I have a life.  People and pets need attention.  There is a long list of unavoidable chores.  Emails have to be answered. I go to twice a week classes about writing! (That’s a must.) There is a long list of enjoyable places to see, fun things to do, friends to hang out with.

Surely all of this activity is new. Somewhere along the line, I slipped from I really should focus on my writing more often, to What can I let slide for now so that I can write!

I’m trying to remember what I did before I contracted this strange bug. I think I was in a coma somewhere, or maybe dead.

My favorite apocalyptic story is an old Twilight Zone episode: “Time Enough At Last.” It is based on the short story by Lynn Venable. Burgess Meredith plays the lone survivor of a nuclear war. He gathers a huge number of books he’s always wanted to read, and just as he opens the first book, he fumbles and breaks his glasses.

This is my favorite because it is one of my nightmares.

“Honey, all the food is contaminated!”

“Yeah, but is the library intact?”

Now we are headed toward holiday season, and time for writing (and reading) will grow even more scarce. Halloween is big at our house. I invite a crowd to Thanksgiving dinner. The more the merrier, come Christmas! My decorations are minimal. It’s just that I’ve discovered it’s more fun decorating with family, friends, and the occasional stranger or two I meet at the grocery store or on the street, or therapist’s office.

. . . see! Someone just came in the door.  Serious writing to come. Tonight. Tomorrow after I stare at the cat hair on the stairs. I can let that slide.

 

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