ukelele family

My dog has fleas! Photo by Michelle M. Welch

Work progresses slowly on my next project: finishing the four-book set of cheesy romance novels I’m writing and self-publishing under a pseudonym. The theme is the four elements, so even though sales have been staggeringly (or whatever the opposite of staggeringly is, I guess) low, not finishing #4 will leave me feeling eternally unbalanced and unfinished.

Meanwhile, I’ve got some submissions out and am twiddling my fingers waiting patiently for responses. What to do now? Maybe something a little different.

I play or have played a number of instruments with differing levels of proficiency, and at one point I was actually a music major, before finally admitting that I lacked both the sufficient skill and the utter stubbornness needed to make money at it. Several weeks ago I was talking to my uncle, also an amateur musician, and he asked whether I still played. “With my arthritis,” I answered, “I can either write or play, but not both.” Then I had to wonder whether that’s absolutely true.

I have limits; everyone does. But there are ways to manage time, and I think I can carve out a little more to play once in a while. (Besides, look at these guys. Aren’t they cute? Who can leave them all lonely and unplayed?) It makes sense to do it now, while I’m waiting for responses and my current WIP is going fairly slowly. I’m not the kind of writer who gets good results by pushing myself; NaNoWriMo-style word count challenges don’t work for me. If I ever get a contract again, I’ll figure out what I need to do to meet my deadlines. Meanwhile, I’ll go where the creative impulse takes me. Sometimes changing directions can actually be beneficial in other areas.

Where does the creative impulse take you?

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