Really, it wasn't a bad plan. It got me through two majors and five (5!!) books. I learned a lot (from other writers and trial and error) and I shared a lot and then...man, I just got tired. I got a job. I co-founded a non-profit. I started doing some ghostwriting. I developed a stress-related auto-immune disorder that causes my immune system to eat my organs whenever I get really excited or really scared or when it's Tuesday or I have to pee... Basically, I finish a book and go into liver failure. Eat a bagel, go into kidney failure. Wake up five minutes late, have no hemoglobin. It's fine. Totally fine. Everything is OK.
Point is, after a ten year hiatus, I miss blogging. Not so much for the accountability, because I don't need that anymore. But because I miss connecting with other writers on a more-than-120-characters level. And because, more than anything, I miss getting in touch with my process, that writer part of me that is always evolving, that doesn't get a proper check-in often enough.
(Sorry, writer me. You're important! You matter! It just doesn't always feel like you matter when there are other less important but more pressing responsibilities breathing down my neck! We're going to do better, you and I. I promise!)
Today I started a new book, which I love and think is great, except that right now the writer part of me is struggling with finding balance and being OK with not writing ALL THE THINGS! ALL THE TIME! The past few months have been the most creatively fulfilling months I've had in years, and it's been a fight to share my time with other responsibilities. Like, you know, work. And sleep. And self-care.
Twenty-two-year-old writer Liz would not have let those things get in the way of the words. She would have found a more accommodating job, loaded herself full of cigarettes and Red Bull, and powered through. This is probably why thirty-six-year-old writer Liz has no hemoglobin. :)
I just have to keep repeating to myself that small chunks of time are just as important as larger ones, small word counts add up just as quickly as big ones, and books that get continuous work will always eventually get finished.
That's the only way I have ever finished a book and the only way I ever will.
Do the work. Every day. Beginning with day one.
And all you have to do on day one?
Just start.