A year ago, I knew I had a deadline. I had a book to finish, and I had just completely changed the format. I had about six months left to revise and write, for I had to allow time for the printing process. My deadline was July. And I could do nothing. I sat down to write, and nothing came to me. The next day, I promised myself, I would work on the book. Next day came, but there were still no words.
The same is happening now. My blog sits idle. I struggle with my newsletter: fortunately, I had my two articles written before the snow fell. There are no visitors to Riverbank. I have come to a conclusion. 'Tis the season.
I cannot write in December. I can bake, I can knit and crochet, I can wrap, I can listen to carols on YouTube, I can fuss and fidget and I can make excuses.
What I do remember from last year is that January came. The gifts and the tinsel were put away. The baking was long gone. The deadline for handemade gifts came and went. The resolutions were quickly forgotten.
The writing began.
And so it will, again.
It will, it will. Nothing wrong with baking, knitting, wrapping, listening, etc. etc. It is the Season!
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