Summertime non-post

This is going to be one short post, because I have no time to think of anything intelligent to say about writing life. It's July, it's hot out, and Covid restrictions have recently been lifted in Ontario, allowing us all to finally bust out of our prison cells and go to stores, restaurant patios and family gatherings. Since my last post, I have acquired a new car, tried to ready my old one for sale, and spent ten days at my cottage with two of my children and their families, each family with a toddler. Does anyone get any writing, or indeed much coherent thinking, done with a two year old and three year old (who has given up her nap) to play with? In between shopping, cooking, eating, and washing up, we have had lots of fun, but there's been little spare time to check emails, let alone get any writing done for this blog or my current novel. 

My spiffy new car

Not that I'd have it any other way.

My current novel is in shambles. I am writing in fits and starts, with so many gaps between sessions that I can't remember where I am, what's happened earlier, and where I might be going. I write my first drafts longhand, and I have not had time to type out and print out what I've written, so I have nothing but scribbled pages to refer to. At the moment I am stealing moments of writing time during the children's nap (when they nap) and I am reminded that this is how I wrote much of my doctoral dissertation decades ago. Much of the rest of that was written once I had put my children to bed. Nowadays, however, I can barely type a whole sentence by that hour of the night. No wonder I can't seem to get any momentum going!

My favourite writing spot

But I know there will be time for writing, when they are all gone home, the cottage is quiet again, and I sink back into my familiar, mundane routine. 

But for now, I'm going to bed, because the house will be alive and hopping in a little more than six hours.