I’ve written about writer’s guilt before; the feeling that any spare time spent doing anything other than writing is wasted time. I suspect most driven people in any pursuit, be it business, the arts, or anything that requires a lot of time probably feel the same.
But every now and then you get a reminder that not all frivolous actions are wasted time.
I have been lucky enough to be much closer to my family in the last 12 months after over 16 years of living out of the state (and sometimes the country). My writing has certainly suffered over the last year, but my relationship with my family is stronger than ever.
You can’t just order that up and get it delivered. It takes time. And sometimes that time feels like it is being wasted. Long chats over the dinner table and sitting watching a favourite TV show with those you love can be very rewarding, even if they leave you with no words in the novel bank. They are also moments you will cherish when you no longer have the opportunity to slip into them at will.
Remember, everything is material when you are a writer. The way I see it is that I’ve just spent a lot of time on research this year. And I’m very at peace with that.
Word count this week: zero.