It's amazing what a fragile thing the creative process can be. I've written before about how I have to be able to concentrate, and once folks are up at my house, creativity kind of shuts down.
This week my awesome mother in law had a heart attack. She has been in ICU since Monday, and my hubby and I have been up at the hospital most of that time. Each day has been a roller coaster, and things are starting to even out, thank goodness, as her condition improves.
Today is the first day I've had all week where I will be able to write, and will be the only day until next week.
And I haven't been able to bring myself to write a word on my work in progress.
I'm sure that exhaustion and emotion and a host of other things have a lot to do with it, but I've missed writing so much this week. Ah, well. The benefits of being an author without a contract obligation allow me to take a little time off to recuperate instead of forcing a pile of word-puke that would probably be horrid anyway.
Maybe I will try again after coffee. *sigh*
Writing is therapeutic for me. If it is chore (outside of deadlines, of course) then I take a break. You worry about your MIL. The words will come later. She's in my prayers.
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