I was given the greatest gift for a writer, time and solitude. I spent two nights in Canmore in a condo, courtesy of a brother- and sister-in-law. It was a mini-spring in winter, so warm I sat on the balcony in bare feet and a T-shirt, the sleeves pushed up over my shoulders, tanning while I wrote. I spent three days alone, with no one needing anything, no laundry waiting, no walks to shovel. I worked when I wanted to and rested when I needed.
I couldn’t push this hard every day, but to use this time to simply write and write and write – well, to edit and edit and edit – on five, yes, seriously, five different projects – was brilliant. This is an indication of how scattered my last six months have been, and the effort I’m putting in to learning and growing as a writer, but it has to stop at some point. I keep thinking I’m almost at that point, and then I see something new to dig into.
And it was wonderful, truly wonderful.
Maureen
