I could say that I'm distracted. The weather here has been amazing. Sunny and warm – tee-shirt weather even for me, and I prefer my temperatures closer to tropical than not. Right now, every window in my house is open, and I'm reveling in that.

I think I'd come closer to the truth, however, if I would just admit that I'm frustrated.

Like so many other writers, this is only one of many jobs. Sometimes, life's clamor is too incessant, too loud, to make the room I want to make for my art. It's well and good to say, “set aside a time and let nothing interfere”, but the reality of my – our – circumstances make that time and space somewhat less than sacrosanct.

So, to deal with it, I'm distracting myself with everything that is going well. I like my paid job. I like the flexibility it gives me to be there for my child and to keep writing. I'm expecting some exciting, writing-related news sometime in the next few months. I've found a fabulous group of writing peers locally who are helping me tremendously with my first novel – enough that I harbor (possibly over-ambitious) hopes of being ready to put together a query letter by the end of the summer, to find an agent or a small publisher. And however slow it may be, I am making progress on my second novel, with ideas and plans for others maturing in the back of my mind.

And I'm trying to remind myself, as I sit here enjoying the sun and grateful that the treatments my doctor prescribed have been effective enough to let me write this, that it's okay to stop sometimes and just take care of myself.