Well, are you?

A few weeks ago, I went along to one of my writers' groups, the first I had attended in several months.  One of the writers (whose ferocious dedication to fiction and wealth of knowledge I admire enormously, and who has been a fabulous source of encouragement to me) asked me, “Are you writing at the moment?”

Am I writing?

“I’m coming off a hiatus…” I mumbled. And it’s true, sort of.  I’ve got a few half-done rough drafts stashed about the place, and plenty of ideas scribbled down here and there.  But if I’m honest, my focus has been elsewhere for much of the year.

Not that it’s a bad thing.  For starters, I’ve been on an Organising Drive.  This means spring-cleaning pretty much every facet of the domestic sphere – from containerising my storage to routinifying my family members.  OK, so it’s taken me away from my desk, but it will be a good thing in the long run.  I imagine it’s much easier to write a best-selling novel when your children can find their school socks, when your husband can find the children, and when you can find the time to write. (Hint: it’s either stuffed down the back of the lounge or jumbled up in the washing basket with the missing sock).

So, yeah.  I’m coming off a hiatus. The morning pages beckon again.