Home » Going Indie: One Woman's Journey to Publishing Her Book » 1,000 Words of Summer 2021, Day Nine

1,000 Words of Summer 2021, Day Nine

Photo credit: Koto Kyoto on Unsplash

Scraps of time may be all you have to get the writing done.

I went to bed late last night. Three o’clock, to be precise. It was the best I could do after finishing all that needed to be filed, making a meat loaf, wrapping a friend’s birthday gifts, doing the billing so clients would send me money, and cleaning up the kitchen. I knew I’d have to be awake at 9:00 a.m. so I could buy a ticket to see Yo-Yo Ma at the Connecticut Forum, but apart from that brief moment of wakefulness, I figured I could sleep until at least 10:00; I already had plans to take Dad for a medical appointment, but I wouldn’t have to leave the house until 11:00.

Except just before 7:00 this morning, my sister texted to say that Dad fell, the ambulance was at the house, and he might need to go to the ER.

By the time the texts and calls had established that there was no harm and the scheduled appointment would go forward as planned, it was 8:30. I got ready for the day, logged on at 9:00 to buy my ticket, fed the cats, made tea, unloaded the dishwasher, tended to a few other minor tasks, and considered my options.

I had slightly less than an hour until I needed to leave. Not really enough time to start work, but exactly enough time to write 1,000 words.

And that’s exactly what I did.

Turns out, it was a good thing I wrote when I did. By the time I did my errands, took Dad to his appointment, and got back, it was past 4:00. Four hours of sleep may be enough for young whippersnappers, but it’s not enough for the likes of me. I stumbled into the house, ignored the cats who were clammering for a snack, and fell into bed for a nap. When I woke up, I tended to a few administrative tasks, talked with a client about a new project, attended an online seminar I’d signed up for, and fed everybody.

Right now, it’s not late, but I’m fried. I’m so glad I wrote this morning. Right now, I simply don’t have enough functioning brain cells to do more than set down this brief account of my day. Grabbing the available time when I had it turned out to be the smartest thing I did all day.

Tomorrow, I have to work, meet an adoptable cat who needs a biography for the shelter website, handle a few more administrative tasks, and (if I’m lucky) put away my winter clothes. (Considering that it was in the 90s today, I think it’s time.) I don’t yet know when time to write will present itself, but one of the benefits of this challenge is that I’m more aware of scraps of time in which to write—because those scraps may be my only chance.

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