I am a writer, damn it.

If you didn't check out my post on Flash Fiction Chronicles, you should! The gist of it is that I consider myself a writer, because I write. I need to write.

Unfortunately, I have not been writing as much as I would like to lately. Part of that is this fear of rejection that I'm dealing with. There's a part of me that completely regrets having submitted "Into the Fog," because it means that I'm going to have to deal with someone rejecting my work. If I didn't submit it, no one could tell me that it wasn't good enough. (There's a little part of my mind that's struggling to remind me that I just might be accepted, but even though I try to be an optimist, I am, at best, a realist. It is much more realistic to think that my first submission ever will be rejected. MUCH more realistic.)

The other major reason that I haven't been writing as much is that inspiration keeps striking me while I am at work. In the middle of the day, while doing data entry, I get the urge to write. I am writing down the gist of the ideas, but I can't really justify writing full stories while I'm at work. I can justify using Google Reader, because I get 40-60 articles a day from ophthalmic and medical sites, so technically it's work-related... but I can't write without feeling guilty. Unfortunately, by the time I get home, I'm tired of being at a computer. I want to spend time with Zoe. I get pounced on by Mia. And then it's bedtime, because I'm getting old and I have to be in bed by 10 or so if I'm going to get up by 7 the next morning.

However. This weekend, I do not have to work. I actually had leftover vacation days, and they have to be used up by July, so I'm taking a long weekend. I'll sleep in. A lot. I'll probably clean house. We'll likely go visit Zoe's family. And I'm going to force myself to work on editing HEA, and if inspiration strikes me in the middle of the afternoon, I'm going to let myself write.

And I'm going to try really hard not to worry about "Into the Fog."