I still write on this blog, occasionally. Maybe once or twice a year. The truth is, it’s been difficult to write about COVID-19 life in a creative way, especially when I’m thinking and writing about coronavirus in an informational and scientific way all day at work. But lately, I’ve felt the urge to write about life lately more informally, which leads me here.Continue reading “reflections on the covid-19 pandemic, one year in”
It’s now the beginning of November and I’ve just finished taking an awesome writing class. I haven’t written on this blog lately because I’ve been busy getting down the first draft of my novel, but I wanted to share some updates on what I learned in this class.
Recently, I asked one of my writing buddies how she is able to find so much time to write. That’s something I’ve struggled with lately. I’ve felt guilty about it because this is the time of my life when I have no responsibilities other than myself. If I can’t find an hour or so to write now, when I’m twenty-seven, living alone, without even a goldfish to take care of, then how will I be able to write when I’m, say, forty years old, potentially with a family and real responsibilities?