In some ways, this year has been a very productive writing year for me. While I haven't progressed far in my first round of editing Safe Word, I've made substantial progress toward building my bibliography by submitting short stories and flash fiction. In a matter of weeks, my life is going to take a dramatic change with the arrival of our first child.
There are plenty of authors with families, day jobs and other responsibilities that manage to carve out time to write. I know it's possible, but it could be some time before I find a new normal and identify where I can carve time from.
I've always had some trepidation about labels. Writers write. It is an action. Just like martial artists - which I used to be - train. Rock climbers climb. Cyclists cycle. What are they when they are not doing that thing that earns them that label? How much time needs to elapse before toting that label just seems silly?
I've gone through writing droughts before. Perhaps the longest was between my early years at college after completing my first attempt at a novel and graduate school when I resumed writing largely because of the support of an online roleplaying group. Since then I have had months of not writing, but the love of story craft always pulls me back in.
I have no idea what challenges the arrival of our daughter will bring or what the next year of trying to adjust to redefining my role as parent, spouse, curator, etc. will bring. Priorities are going to shift. I can't wait to get back to a more regular pattern of physical activity. I also will need to decide which hobbies can still be pursued.
My last submission for a poetry contest will go out by the end of the month. Right now it's easier to concentrate on smaller works. I may not finish my were-bear story. I'm waiting on a few submission responses including my second publisher submission for Wolf Creek.
After that? I hope to still find some time to write now and then so I can justify calling myself a writer.