I wish I could say I have a writing schedule. I dream of having a block of time where my life is quiet enough– and I have enough inspiration– to just write. For now, I write as I make copies at work, or when I’m supposed to be preparing pleadings. I write as I stir the macaroni and cheese and burn the biscuits. I’ve even written while I wait for the shower to warm up– and end up running out of hot water. 

These little snippets result in a paragraph here and a drabble there.  Somehow, through the years, I’ve managed to scrap together a novel. I love my characters, I love my plot. I just wish I could spend more time with them.