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I managed to get a fair amount of writing done back during the holidays. I suspect the biggest reason for this increased output had to do with my having large swatches of time in which to write. I don’t just mean lots of time, I mean large contiguous blocks of time, where I could write interrupted for several hours at a sitting.
Life usually forces me to sneak my writing in whenever I can, which often means writing in fifteen to thirty minute increments. That kind of piecemeal writing isn’t so bad when I’m tweaking sentences, but it’s not so great when I’m fighting my way through a difficult scene. I scarcely have the chance to figure out where I previously left off before it’s time to quit again.
With that in mind, sometimes I wonder what it would be like if I won the lottery, quit my job, and could spend all day writing. I’d like to think my productivity would skyrocket, but I suspect it wouldn’t quite work out that way in real life. I believe one of the reasons I enjoy writing is because I have to work so hard just to find the time to write. Would I enjoy writing as much if I had all the time I wanted? If I spent four to eight hours writing every day, would it start to seem like work? Would my passion for writing fizzle after a couple of books?
I don’t play the lottery, so I guess I’ll never know the answer.
(Unless my wife inherits a fortune. Then all bets are off.)