Ah, blogging time. When the magic happens. Or, at least, when it's supposed to. As I'm sure you've noticed, I've been less than stellar of late. I closed last week with a post about two books I haven't read - that just stinks of desperation - and since then I've missed one day and posted a rather third-rate link on the other.
Continuing to keep writing commitments when life pounces can be rough, but it's important to keep on trucking. Do I want to be a writer? I need to create myself as a writer. Be a writer. Write. The same applies to being a blogger. Or, for that matter, to being husband, wife, mother, father, or friend. The lesson of this week has been, for me, to remember that fact. I am what I make myself to be. My life is what I make of it.
That being said, despite the last few days of bloggy failure, my writing life is actually pretty good. I haven't had a chance to work on my own projects - of course - but I have recently landed a contract with Green Ronin, I've heard back from Greymalkin Designs and can finally get started on my project for them, and my White Wolf redlines are nearly done. Nearly, but not done.
Of course, whenever I start to get upset, I dwell on this thought: ten years ago - when I was 17 - if you told me that I'd be struggling with too many freelance contracts, I'd have laughed in your face and then wondered why some asshole pretending to be from the future (and/or with the power to see the future; I'm not picky) was mocking me.
So, when life pounces, write.