This year, Sundays have been the most productive for me, in terms of my fiction writing. This is because my critique group meets on Sunday afternoon. Each member is expeted to bring up to 10 pages of new material.
What this means is that I am generally writing those 10 pages Sunday morning. Sounds stressful, but it has worked. We've met 14 times, and thanks to that critique group, I have written 138 pages of My dog Carries a Knife.
We are not meeting today, though. My husband, Steve, was planning to run a marathon in San Diego today. But he got sick, so we cancelled the trip.
That turned out to be a good thing for me, because I had an appellate brief due Monday. The calendar in my head, which I should NEVER trust, said that brief was due June 11. Fortunately, the calendar that appears at my desk had a reminder about this brief.
Of course, I am sick, too. Slight fever, very sore throat, cough, aches and pains, etc. But the brief is due. And so I will write it today, polish it tomorrow, and file it.
I will not work on my book.
I will feel guilty for the five minutes it took me to write this post, when I could have been researching cases or outlining the brief, or whatever.