Where did August Go?

No matter how small and unimportant what we are doing may seem, if we do it
well, it may soon become the step that will lead us to better things.
Channing Pollock

Isn’t it odd, how sometimes you feel that parts of your life just grind to a halt, without any real conscious effort or desire on your part, but they just do.

It’s kinda happened with my writing, much to my dismay and some bewilderment.  To compensate, I’ve been throwing myself into creating a new website, in the hope that all the rampant creativity will spark a renewal of my wellspring.  Alot has been happening in the last two weeks, with the advent of my birthday last week, and the pecadillo’s with my kids,  with one thing and another. But that’s not really the reason for the literary drought, at least, I hope it’s not. Real Life never goes away, and often intrudes to the point where you wonder how you are ever going to fit in time for what you know is important, but seems to become less important as other things crowd in.

That’s how I feel at the moment….crowded. The demands I place on myself as well as those placed upon me by outside forces, has created a situation where writing has become a burden instead of a welcome relief.  I hate that.  I can honestly say that I have been writing diligently and persistently for the past seven years, with few breaks and a consistent return when things start to pile up. This last month has seen a change in that usual routine.  I wonder if I have just burned out, or maybe I’m just buried with the minutae of domesticity, buried under an avalanche of spark snuffing normality.  Maybe I just took the gift for granted and thought it would last forever.  I hope not.

It’s far too depressing to think that, so I won’t.

I think I’ll go and start a ‘flow-of-consciousness’ story, and see where it takes me. Maybe that will renew the flow.  Oh, and I ordered a book on grammar and punctuation just yesterday, curtesy of an online birthday voucher sent by my sister.  It’s all still in there – the desire, the drive, the fund of stories – they just need a nudge to creep out of the dark and find their place in the sun.

They definitely need to get out more.