The holidays are over. On this we can agree. We have gained weight and added to our treasures and depleted our bank accounts. We have eaten everything under the sun and drank quite a bit too. We have made merry and now we are snowed in until the first peek of spring sometime in April or May or even June if you live in Chicago. And so we begin the long slog toward something brighter. Maybe summer.
As a writer you hope to have something for the spring. Maybe it is the change of seasons letting you know that time is slipping away. Add a birthday or a death in the family and you really feel times acceleration. The seasonal shift is always a shock. Like winter we think we can just outlast it all and that is a victory too.
But you want to have something to show for all this hibernatory living. Lets face it there is not much to do between now and the first warm days of spring except to work. Maybe that is why the work ethic in the Midwest is so fierce. The cold makes you just hunker down and grind through it. Hard to do that if it is seventy five and sunny outside your window. So time to grow your hair long and finish off that first draft or that final rewrite so you will have something to emerge from your cave with and say look; these brutally cold months were not in vain...
I wrote a book!
The Pitcher...sometimes a dream is all you have
www.williamhazelgrove.com
As a writer you hope to have something for the spring. Maybe it is the change of seasons letting you know that time is slipping away. Add a birthday or a death in the family and you really feel times acceleration. The seasonal shift is always a shock. Like winter we think we can just outlast it all and that is a victory too.
But you want to have something to show for all this hibernatory living. Lets face it there is not much to do between now and the first warm days of spring except to work. Maybe that is why the work ethic in the Midwest is so fierce. The cold makes you just hunker down and grind through it. Hard to do that if it is seventy five and sunny outside your window. So time to grow your hair long and finish off that first draft or that final rewrite so you will have something to emerge from your cave with and say look; these brutally cold months were not in vain...
I wrote a book!
The Pitcher...sometimes a dream is all you have
www.williamhazelgrove.com
