John Howe’s amazing painting of Eowyn and the Witch-King. This is what both writing and swordfighting feel like.
The holidays have thrown me off, and I’m just now starting to find my stride again. As I have to do every few months, I’ve examined the shape of my days and weeks, and had to recalibrate. I need to make more time for writing. I need to be more intentional about this. I’ve managed to carve out about a two-hour block each day, six days a week, in order to make this happen. In the process, I’ve realized that I buck against schedule, that I don’t like feeling that certain things must happen at certain times in my day. I like fluidity. I like flexibility. The problem is that, much as I love it (and this is a HUGE paradox of writing for me) I will let anything and everything come first. So I am blocking off writing time in a much more scheduled way than I have ever since I was a brand new mommy of two and I got one precious hour to write in the evening while my Sainted Husband bounced our rambunctious offspring back into bed every two minutes.
Starting my swordfighting class is helping with this, too. Aside from being “research for a book,” it’s helping me to map out my days with a little more purpose, making sure that there is time for what’s important. And, of course, it is FREAKIN’ AWESOME.
I love this class, you guys. It is amazing. My inner child, who has been wanting to be a knight ever since she first heard of such creatures, is in a constant state of extreme giddiness.
So, this has been a short, rambly, not-profound, not-earth-shattering post. Because I need to keep moving, keep writing, keep learning, and keep putting words out there, no matter what the day looks like, or how crazy the week has been.
Happy Saint Brigid’s Day!