Random Thoughts on Writing For a Thursday Night.

Writing for an audience is oppressive.  Writing with an audience is unnerving to the point of paralysis.  I can't stand for the husband to look over and read whatever it is I'm currently working on.  Maybe it goes back to the time a few years ago when I allowed him to read something of which I was very proud, and he promptly turned to me and, in all seriousness, suggested I needed therapy.  No, you goon, that was my therapy.  Yeah, perhaps that's it.  THAT GUY officially is no longer allowed to have an opinion on or even catch an eyeful of anything I type.

To be in my personal 'writing happy place', I prefer dead quiet or music appropriate to my mood.  I do not, on the other hand, find myself to do well with constant traffic in and out of my room, door slams, running cats/barking dogs, wrestling, or video game sound effects.  It's summer vacation.  With four kids home all day every day, imagine the impact these strict parameters have on my word count.  Mmmhmm.

And what do I do when stories need to be told now or never, but they're completely separate from what I'm working so hard to complete.  First world problems, absolutely, but still new and confusing to me.