top of page

Distractions and Other Excuses

Forgive me writing gods, for I have been distracted.

I haven't written a word on my new novel in nineteen days. I haven't researched new agents pending the three new rejections I got recently. I haven't yet decided what to do with my fourth unpublished novel. True, I wrote one blog, but I am not sure that counts. Blogs are merely streams of consciousness. They are thoughts that one allows to spill over into the public domain.

Forgive me writing gods, for I have been distracted.

I have other excuses. Real ones: like a new baby, an empty car battery and other chores that are simply more urgent, like making the time to shower. I state these excuses matter-of-factly while I type with three fingers of one hand and soothe the littlest princess with the other. For a change, it is not about writer's block or lack of inspiration. It is not even about me. It is about factors that are beyond my control. These are the causes of my distraction. Am I allowed to deflect blame? Am I allowed to point an accusing finger at circumstances. It is you world, it is not me.

Forgive me writing gods, for I have been distracted.

But then again. I never swore allegiance. I never spoke about exclusivity. We have no signed contracts, no time stamps, and no minimum word counts. This is a unilateral relationship. Honestly, I am not so sure you even exist.

So I don't need your forgiveness, or even your listening ear or your sympathy: real or imagined. I just need to get beyond the distractions and excuses, and go forth and write.

Maybe tomorrow.

bottom of page