I read that Danielle Steel is publishing SIX books in 2018. In an interview, she said she often writes for 24 hours at a stretch and, once, for 36 hours straight.
Somehow, I don’t think Danielle Steel is ignoring reproachful glares from cats and dogs. (No one does reproachful glares better than a Siamese cat!) And I’ll bet her horse hasn’t positioned himself under the window he knows she’s behind and is whinnying his head off, demanding his dinner.
It’s hard, when the mood moves you to write, to have to go to the dentist for a cleaning. Or take the car in for service. Vet visit. Groceries. Designated driver for a colonoscopy. You get the idea…it’s called, “life.”
And it always seems to get in the way when you really want to write. When the plot that has eluded you suddenly comes together in your head and you’re burning to get those ideas down before they’re gone. (And, no, instructing your phone’s virtual assistant to make a note won’t do).
Every writer’s lament has got to be that there just isn’t enough time. Maybe that’s why writers’ retreats are held. Hmmmm…hold that thought.