It seems as if lately the only art I’m practicing is the art of procrastination.
There’s no art in going about your daily life and telling yourself you have no time to write. The art is in pursuing other activities to keep from going about your daily life and telling yourself you have no time to write.
Thus far in my procrastination, I have:
- Taken an on-line class to increase my word-processing skills
- Read almost the entire oeuvre of a best-selling author to see why she’s so popular (still have no clue)
- Cleaned out my closets
- Started this blog
It would probably be easier just to sit down and begin writing the novel, but where’s the art in that?