Simple Living in a Distracted Life

As much as I meditate and try to simplify my life and live in the present moment, somehow I live in distraction, constantly being pulled away by one thing or another, some of them self-chosen, some handed to me by others.

I fight for my writing time, keeping an hour or two sacrosanct on the tough days (the toughest days consume everything). And my stories limp along, as I pick away at them, longing for chunks of time when I can really concentrate.

The writing is different when I have more time, more silence, more room in my life. This week I was gifted more time, and the novel I’m working on leapt forward, as I took advantage of all the slow, limping work to surge ahead. And I had more time, spare time for not-the-novel, when I played with story ideas, and found a short story that was ready to finish.

Now I’m laid stupid by a stomach bug, but I’m satisfied with my week, replete with creativity, and happy to take a day to rest.

Maureen

Feather Brain, Book of the Month

I’ve just finished my first TV interview, via Skype, with TVO (Ontario). Feather Brain is the Reading Rangers Book of the Month for June, and I had a brief chat with Melissa about the story.

I’m hoping the kids who read the story will check on-line and discover the website, howweirdcanyouget.com, where Lucas bought the magic dinosaur-making kit. And send me an email, perhaps with their own ideas for magic for the website.

Maureen

Too Many Booboos

My family and I have had a tough couple of weeks. My mom fell and spent a week in hospital and then a couple weeks in a rehab place while her hip healed. My older daughter flew off her bike face first into rocks. I was hit in the face with the corner of falling plywood. After cleaning up the blood… I had a banged up face and an impressive black eye. Then I fell for a really good Royal Bank phishing imitation, and am now fighting back against identity theft.

Next week we get planned chaos, with some landscaping work to complete the back garden rebuild partially triggered by the house that went up next door last summer.

I’m not sure where to go with this, except to try to keep writing through it all. Maybe some of this will end up in a story.

Maureen