Today I entered a writing contest. That's something I haven't done in a long time. There will be a ton of entries, of course, and I don't expect to win. But (I tell myself) the payoff is in the writing, and that really is the truth. I expected to spend today grading essays, and instead I spent the day writing. I'm pleased I resisted my tendency to put every task associated with "earning my bread" high on my priority list, while promising to write once each line was crossed off. The problem is that I run out of steam, and writing has to wait another day, when new priorities surface and claim top positions.
I'm referring to "serious" writing (though at times it is humor), not what I do here most of the time. I manage to find time to write here (almost) whenever the desire strikes me. But serious writing is different, it isn't journaling. With serious writing, although it often comes to me in a burst, I craft every sentence, contemplate every word and study every comma. I listen to the voice to find just the right note.
"It's spring break after all," she said. Was that an excuse or a challenge? "Others are increasing their carbon footprints so they can lay on beaches." I deserve my guilty pleasure.