I’ve had a new job since late last year, and since it’s in I.T., it’s more than full time. In addition, I’ve gone back to school to get a master’s in library science.
I’ve been complaining that I can’t make time to write, but I began a new story yesterday. It might go nowhere, but it’s a start. I wrote a couple of paragraphs as I was eating lunch. I think this is my writing life now: five or ten minutes here or there. But five minutes of writing is more productive than five minutes of griping about no time to write.
The story? I have two characters — the narrator and his ne’er-do-well cousin — and a situation. It’s started out absurd, but not fantastic, and I’d like to keep it in that realm. No more: I find if I talk/write about my writing too much before the first draft is done, the first draft is never done.