ROBIN HOBB

On February 11, I didn't feel well.  It wasn't surprising.  My husband had been sick a few days before.  I'd tested him for Covid, but no, that wasn't it.  

Then my older sister, whom I care for, was horribly sick over the 9th and 10.  But she had syptoms more of a stomach disorder than Covid. I kept cleaning her up and soldiering on.  So I wasn't surprised on the 11th that I was so tired and muscles were aching.

But by mid-morning of the 12th, I knew I was really sick, with something very bad.  I did a covid test and within minutes I had two very dark stripes in the little window.  Despite masking and hand washing and avoiding crowds, despite multiple boosters, I had Covid.  And it was fully as painful and debilitating as I had heard.  All I wanted to do was stay in bed, use box after box of Kleenex and pity myself.

But I couldn't.  No matter how sick you are, your animals need to be fed.  And in my case, that also means my sister needed food cooked and laundry done and garbage emptied and bed stripped and made up clean every day.  All the tasks that come with caring ffor someone who can no longer take care of herself. 

(Well, surely someone else could do all that. )

No.  Not unless I wanted to expose them to this awful stuff.  My husband, still sick, was doing what he could.  Between the two of us, somehow we got by.  Chickens were fed, laundry was  accomplished, and some very marginal  and uninspired meals were served.  My younger son came by and refused to leave.  He cleaned, he cooked, he tidied.  And somehow, he has avoided getting sick (so far.) Daughters called to check on us and wondered if we needed more groceries.   A niece dropped off adult diapers and waterproof bed pads for my sister (the truly crucial supplies!)  So while Fred and I were handling it mostly on our own, we did have people who would have called an ambulance for us if it really got bad.  I am aware that there are many other people who have faced Covid with fewer resources and no support.  I lay on my bed and tried to imagine what it would have been like if I were living in a tent in an empty lot somewhere.  Counting my blessings even when things are pretty dark. 

,

So.  Here we are on the 19th, a full week later.  Fred is still achey but functional.  I am coughing, sneezing, congested and miserable but also functional.  Don't underestimate the muscle pain from this disease.  There is no comfortable way to sit, stand or lie down.  Everything hurts.    And the brain fog is very real.  I was very irritated with my son as he had apparently taken my mop bucket and mop.  When I found it, I was puzzled as to how it got in the utility room.  A day later, I recalled that I had used it to mop the floor in an effort to disinfect the kitchen.  It's really unnerving to have my brain skip a beat like that.

So.  I feel better than I did at my worst.  But I am not over this.  At any time, I could fall on my face and sleep.  When I am not too hot, I am chilled.  

This message is to remind people that yes, the 'pandemic' is over because, like influenza or the common cold, Covid is now endemic.  That's forever, my friend. 

To everyone who is certain it's not a big deal, I just want to say, it is to me.  I'm in the demographic  of people who can die from this stuff.  

I hope you don't get it.

Okay, I see you!  There in the back, waving your hand frantically and stamping your feet in frustration. "I don't have the time.  No, really, I don't! No matter what I give up, something else grabs that time.  I can't hope for a quiet hour on any day, let alone one every day!"

I feel your pain.  Been there, done that.  But I still believe that you can write your book or short story.  Not easily.  Even if you have eight free hours a day, writing is never easy.  And when you have to do it in tiny increments, it's even harder.

But it's not impossible.  Just harder.

So here is how to start today.

1.  Make your writing gear accessible at all times.  It doesn't matter what you use.  A laptop, a phone, a tablet, a spiral notebook, a pocket notebook. Don't put it away.  Keep it out on a table or countertop, where you see it.  If you are using software, have that be on the screen.  If you are writing by hand, don't let the pen or pencil stray from whatever you are writing on.  Leave it where you can write that next sentence, and then let the dog out and pick the baby's toy up and put it back on the highchair tray.  Don't put your writing away.  You are now writing all day, even when your hands aren't touching it.  Your brain is.

2.  Make your writing portable.  Take it with you.  Shove that notebook, paper or electronic, into the pocket of the diaperbag.  Put it on the seat of the car next to you.  Have that pocket notebook, yes, in your pocket perhaps next to a pen in a nice nerdy pocket-protector. 

You are a writer.  You ALWAYS have a notebook and pen with you.  You are always writing.

When other people in the dentist office are reading the two-years-old People magazine, you write, notebook on knee.  On the bus or train.  On your break from waitressing.  While you are sitting on the sidelines watching your kid's soccer practice.  Sitting on the bathroom floor while the toddler is in the tub splashing.   (Yup, done all those.)

3.  And finally, defend those writing moments.  The ringing phone or the pinging text can wait while you finish that sentence, or even that paragraph.  Folding the laundry or raking the leaves can wait; I promise those chores won't go away.  (Sometimes, if you leave them long enough, someone else does them.)  Volunteer to take the care for the oil change.  And write in their lobby.  

Does it work?  Well, I got 1668 words yesterday,  Worked for me.  

One final tip.  It you are seizing some moments last thing at night and you know you are about at the end of your stamina, stop while you know what the next sentence will be.  Save it for tomorrow, to help you get started again.

And now I've used up my allotted blog time.  Maybe I'll be here tomorrow.  Who knows?

  Well, the great debate about Blue Ticks on Twitter rages on.  With so many people threatening to leave Twitter over it and other issues, perhaps it's time for me to make this website a more timely and interesting place.  The plus for me is that I can ramble on as much as I like about the things that interest me.  

I hope you will find them interesting also.

I've posted before about how important it is to Write Here, Write Now.  I even delivered that advice at several conventions.  But fear not, I'm not oging to cover all that again here.  Instead, I'm going to talk about the next thing that would-be writers say.  "I simply don't have time to write.  I want to write, but there's no available time in my life.

My life has recently become more complicated.  More loads of laundry, a need to cook 'real meals' rather than tell my tolerant spouse to 'go fix yourself a sandwich', a need to keep my messy house more clear of obstacles and stacks . . . all of it eats minutes if not hours every day.  

Yet I continue to write.  And you can start, if that is your heartfelt desire.

First of all, you have to realize one thing.  You will never have more free time in your life than you do right now.  As one of your obligations falls away (Kids going to school now) something else will pop up to claim that time (part time job?  Volunteering in the school?)  The only way to handle this is to claw back some of the time you have already committed to other things.

Here's my list of things I curtail when necessary things claim more of my time.

Television (I spend more time looking for something to watch than I do watching!)

Cooking  (Plan ahead so you can freeze extra portions, budget a takeaway meal, etc.)

On-line activities (gaming, social media, chatting)

You don't have to give those things up. Just decide how much time each can claim, and stick to it.

You can make your own list.  I promise not to judge you.

Next importan step.  Defend the block of time you have claimed.  If you have a family or friends, people will ask you for  your time.  'Can you babysit for me?'  'Would you drive me to the airport?'  'Let's go out for drinks.' Whatever.  Practice saying, "Not now.  This is my writing time."  Just as you wouldn't jump out of the bathtub to do those things, don't get up from the keyboard.  This is your writing.  It's important to you.  Claim it.  And don't hesitate to reverse the flow.  Ask your family to help protect that time.  Let your friends know that you are writing your magnum opus and you need time to do it.

Things that help me but may be hazardous to you.

Keep a writing log.  Jot down when you start, how many words/pages you have at the beginning of your session, and then log when you stop writing and what results you can claim.   Yesterday, I got 585 words.  Pathetic, right?  But that doesn't reflect that I reorganized the first 100 pages, moving chapters, inserting chapter headings for bridge work I need to create, researched diseases of sheep (it's relevant!)etc.  While the word count may not reflect all that you did, it tells you one thing.  Yesterday I wrote.  Today I write. And tomorrow I will have written.  Even if I write only 500 words a day, at the end of the year I will have 182,500 words.  That's a respectable book chunk!

And . . . oh, my.  Look at the time!  That's all my blogging for today.  

I will see you tomorrow.  Perhaps.  But now I have to go.

I have a book to write.