Recently, as I was pondering my story for my fifth book, then it hit, writer’s block. It is a dreaded thing. I realized that I can’t look at the book, I have to step away and let it go.
I did just that. I walked away and let the book sit. I did everything I could to stay away from it. I knitted a sock, I didn’t think about it. I read murder mysteries, no romances.
Last night, it hit, inspiration, out of the blue. I wrote two thousand words in one night. It was back to pouring out of me. I couldn’t type fast enough. I realized when I looked at the time, several hours had passed.
I need to finish knitting the sock, I have to knit the toe section and then I can start the second one. My heart isn’t into knitting right now. I have a long list to complete of promised socks. I am hoping the second pair will go quicker, I have plans to knit lace socks. I love knitting lace socks. When I finish that pair of socks, I am waiting to hear about two other pairs, I have promised to knit. I am knitting myself a new pair, as well. I knit myself a new pair each year. I have cold feet in the winter and my feet are sensitive. Hand knit wool socks are so comfortable and amazingly soft on my feet.
I just want to sit and write on my book but, then nothing gets done and my household falls apart. I have to take the time to do some much needed cleaning around here. That is my hardest thing, taking time to do my daily chores and not spending all day at my computer, writing. I have to learn to balance both out.