So the holiday season has arrived and I've found it hard to stay focus on work. This is the time of year that I love and hate being a freelancer. I love it because I can make my own schedule--I can dedicate a day to make the cookies and crafts that I am dreaming of--and I hate it for the same reason. It is hard to make myself do "real work" (meaning something that I will get paid for!) when there are so many other things I'd rather be doing.
This is something even more evident as I've embraced the writing side of my career. Becoming an author has been more a result of persistence than calling. I rarely have characters whispering in my ear or find myself in a dream-like reverie of mystical creation. My writing is usually just me, unromantically pegging away.
In the past, I used to wonder if this sort of non-magical creative method was somehow a reflection of my work. If the trumpets did not blare while I wrote, was what I wrote unworthy? However, as time passed, I slowly accepted that this plodding process was just my way, for better or worse.
And right now,unfortunately, it is for worse. It is hard to face trudging through writing when I'd rather decorate cookies. I've gotten so self-indulgent that I've decided to try Linda Sue Park's method of writing two pages a day, without excuse. We'll see if it works. If not, I'll have to ask for some discipline for Christmas.