We went for a walk. Z. sat in the front. H. insists on the back seat.
We stopped at the playground.
H. did the climbing thing,
while baby sister, Z. caught up on her beauty rest.
H. did the run thing, too.
H. did the play thing, and
when Z. woke up from her nap, she hung out at the bottom of the caterpillar slide and waited for big brother to pop out.
On the way home, H. insisted on watching workers trim trees. So, we did.
What has this got to do with writing?
Nothing. Absoulutely nothing. Everything. Positively everything.
Because writers are real people. And when they're not writing, they're living real lives.
What about you, dear reader. What's new with you?
Keep a plan. Schedule your time. Open that calendar book and make an appointment to write.
"Every author, however modest, keeps a most outrageous vanity chained like a madman in the padded cell of his breast."--Logan Pearsall Smith
Now go write something.
I dare you.
See you in print,
Linda Della Donna
"If I can write a book, so can you."
P.S. Be sure to check out my other blog, at Griefcase.