Best of both worlds

I can see why professional writers need their office space. Life gets in the way otherwise.

Not that I mind too much. I had a rather pleasant weekend spent with my wife and son that finished with us enjoying a meal at the pizzeria my wife and I have been going to ever since we met. 

Would I have exchanged that experience for the chance to get the change of perspective done for "Setting Stones?"

Nope. 

Would I like to give up my weekend mornings with my son in order to get more work done? 

Not particularly.

I get a buzz from finishing a bit of work and from seeing people enjoy it.

I get a bigger buzz from my son running across our living room floor and jumping into a cuddle.

I enjoy writing. I love writing. I really wish I had more time to get more done.

My biggest problem just now is that I love my family more.

So what to do?

Change jobs. Become a writer. Live to dream.

Except I'm not good enough to do that. Not yet.

The other problem of course is that deciding to become a writer just isn't the same as wanting to become a butcher, a baker or indeed a candle stick maker. There is no application form. 

What I need to do now, I think, is start building up a body of work. Enter short story competitions here and there. Type up my poetry and songs from the 90s. Well maybe not all of them. 

As far as my current project goes? Well Rowan and Ruairidh will be visiting family for a few days in a couple of weeks. While they're doing that I'll be locking myself in the computer cupboard and working through the changes I've managed to scribble down during tea breaks and train journeys. 

I might just get there yet.