Sometimes It Don't Come Easy

I was at a work event until 7pm last night, and then got home, spent some time with my kids, did some Nanowrimo stuff, then passed out. I did not write a single word. I had taken my laptop with me to the work event, even bringing the power adapter that runs off my car battery in case I had some time in the car, but I didn't. I've got one novel to finish in the next two weeks, and another one due by the end of November. And I'm not worried one little bit.

I make the effort to write every day. Not Monday through Friday, not every weekend. Every. Day. And I do that so that on days like this when I have to give it a miss, it's okay. I'm not going to beat myself up, because a year from now nobody's going to say "And things are in the state they're in because YOU WROTE NOTHING THAT DAY." It's just not going to happen. And not beating myself up about it means that tonight when I sit down to write some words, it'll still flow. I'll still be good.

See? Wasn't that easy?