Most writers are procrastinators. Their top skill. They sit down to write, squiggling to get comfortable, adjusting the light level and relaxing their shoulders. All set? Oh no, I need to check the laundry…feed the cat…put the bills out in the mailbox.
O.K., done. Now are we ready? Hmmm…maybe I need a snack. You get the idea. Their overactive imagination focuses on the Dove treat instead of the words on the page. Until their characters call out to them and demand, “Take me somewhere!”
I squirreled out of writing for most of my life for the same reason. Friends kept telling me, “Nan, you need to write.” Except for reports, grants, business ideas for friends and letters, I ignored them. Like most writers, I’m an expert procrastinator. Not just a nap, mind you. I fiddled for decades before I wrote for myself.
And the children who might laugh and imagine and dream with my stories.
