I've made a deal with my sister.
We both like to write, and didn't do it as much as we wanted. So we made a plan: three times a week we'd set up a Google Hangout and write together. That was the theory.
I think the practice has been successful for her and less so for me. The reason is pretty simple. She uses our time together to write. I use my time to do everything but.
Am I wasting time? Depends on what you mean by waste. I do things. I learn things. Sometimes I edit stuff that she's written. I exercise on my recumbent while in the Hangout. All good things.
But I don't write.
Why? I have no idea. Maybe it's nothing more than a bad habit. Maybe there's some evil creature that stops me. Maybe I like whining about not writing, which I do periodically in my Daily Pages or elsewhere. Like I say, I have no idea.
Which is a demonstrably false statement. Proof: I just wrote a paragraph full of ideas. And I can make more of them. I just don't know which, if any of them is correct.
So here's the deal that I've made.
I'm going to quit screwing around during our writing time, and I'm going to actually write something, at least one thing, every time we meet.
It's not going to be perfect. That's not the goal. It's just gotta get written.
Now it's written.
And now, if you see this, it's been published.