Choosing the Dog (and other excuses)

I seem to be experiencing vicarious ‘senioritus’ as my daughter counts down the days until graduation and mostly moves on cruise-control through school. Certainly she’s savoring social events more than the study ones. These last weeks are full of concerts and award ceremonies to mark the end of her public school career.

Busy, busy. This is a reason I give myself for my recent writing hiatus.

Also, Spring clean-up is overwhelming around here as we do so little autumn maintenance. Last year’s leaves have rotted nicely under the hedges and in the corner of the driveway and can now be raked right into the vegetable garden. (We are good environmentalists thanks to our laziness.) Hedges need clipping, vegetables – planting.

The list goes on. There’s so much to do!

Of course, these excuses for not writing are complete bullshit. So what’s my problem?  I beat myself up with doubt: any writing-mojo I ever had is just gone, I’m a fraud – I can’t write! But rationally, I know it’s simply a lack of discipline.

I’ve been goofing off.

When it comes to being creative, it’s rarely a bolt of inspiration that gets me working, it’s simply sticking to a routine. A time and place in my daily schedule when I sit my ass in this chair in front of this screen – and very importantly: stay off the internet!

Still, life happens and I allow these excuses, to cut myself some slack. I remembered a silly philosophical discussion from my days as an art student — if a piece by Michelangelo and a dog were both in the middle of the road about to get hit and you only had time to save one, which would you save? Of course, we agreed that we’d save the dog, choose the life over art.

But enough excuses. Back to work.

4 thoughts on “Choosing the Dog (and other excuses)”

  1. Yep, get back to it you naughty girl 😉 I am currently sciving as well…reading blogs instead of editing! Must get back to it, I have a competition deadline for 31st at midnight. Good luck with yours!

  2. A few years ago, I was taking a writers’ workshop, entering the Writer’s Digest contest faithfully, submitting pieces to magazines reasonably regularly, and had subscriptions to Writer’s Digest AND The Sun. Somewhere, in one of those places, it said a real writer is compelled to write all the time, for what is life without writing? I knew then that I am not a real writer. For I have learned – or come around – to letting life interfere in my writing time all it wants. I would totally swerve for the art to avoid the dog. I am with you as you let spring and the yard and Molly’s senior year take precedence over butt in seat and fingertips on keys. XXXXXOOOOO Lea

  3. Actually I’ve been meaning to say…not sure if you realise…that when you click on you it sends people to your old blog? Also there isn’t a link to this blog on your gravatar…maybe you don’t want one but just thought I’d flag it up…just in case

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