I hopped in the car on Saturday, and I got the hell out of Dodge
I didn’t tell a soul. Maybe I should have told just one soul, in case I met a serial killer or something, but I went away and I went alone and I needed to do it.
I have a couple of good writer friends who do this at crunch time. They head off to a vacation home or a hotel, and they put the TV remote in a drawer and they write, and write and write.
Plus, tomorrow is my birthday, and the sad truth of it is, with no husband anymore and my family very far away and a whole lot of very busy friends, I’m going to spend the day like any other day, and that’s kind of depressing. So this trip was just for me, to a place I’ve always enjoyed going – Washington DC. I spent two days touring museums and galleries, and the evening was spent tapping away at a keyboard because I honestly do my best writing at night.
And I got stuff done. I got lots of stuff done and worked through and it was rejuvenating and so good for me. I’m glad I did it.
Life is a great teacher, and as writers, sometimes we get so immersed we forget to live one. I did that this weekend, and my writing was the better for it.