Writing in the midst of Christmas Chaos

I spent much of today setting out Christmas decorations and supporting my husband’s DSD. (Daddy Santa Disease) My Beloved adores Santa figures. Me, I’m into snowmen, but a house can hold only so many figures for the season, and Santa wins. I did convince him there were a few that were just too ratty and sad to use, and I hope he actually disposes of them. I wouldn’t be surprised if I found them tucked into a bin next spring, next to the lawn fertilizer. The writing suffered, she said hanging her head in shame.

I had the best of intentions to get to work early this morning, but cyber shopping issued its siren call and I fell off that cliff. Once more, I hang my head in shame. I reasoned that shopping this way keeps me out of stores and away from any possible contagion a la Covid, but I really prefer to see the merchandise in person, handle the fabric, check that sparkle IRL. Not this year. A ton of things have changed since the two years of lockdown, and shopping is a major one.

I’ve been meaning to write up my notes from the writers’ intensive workshop I did in Johnson City, TN, a few weeks back, taught by Steven James. Speaking of post-pandemic life, it was miraculous to meet fellow writers in person once again, to talk shop, and generally rejoice that we’re still here and still scribblers of the mighty pen. It always helps to hear how other writers process the work (and the joy and the doubt and the fear and the blank pages) when life is semi-back to normal after two years of hell. Shows us we’re not alone.

I heard Louise Penny on the CBS morning show today, and she said there’s one motto she keeps in front of her as she’s writing. It’s “No fear.” That’s it. Says it all for a writer.