Yes, I'm alive. Really I am.

Avoid writing? No, I don't do that, not at all...

Um, yeah. I do.

Here's the deal... I have this BIG fiction project that's been percolating in my mind for a year and a half. And I've been avoiding working on it for a year and a half, much to my detriment.

Much like I've been avoiding writing on this blog.

Wonder if there's any connection?

So what am I doing? I'm dedicating time every day to the big fiction project.

And so I don't wimp out, I'm doing it before I do anything else in the morning other than feed the kiddo, get dressed, and have my tea.

I haven't even had my adderall yet.

Thus why I'm sitting on the couch, watching the baby escape through the doggie door to explore the back yard, play in the dog's water, and get muddy.

I'm surrounded by dirty clothes, dirty dishes, scattered toys, and piles of stuff that needs to be dealt with.

Still, here I am, laptop at the ready, writing before doing anything else that's "necessary". Because writing is necessary too.

I've heard tell that famous writers have desks, and order, and solitude.

I'm surrounded by mess, watching the baby get dirty, with the sounds of Ice Age in the background.

Meh, I'll take what I can get.