Since 1988, I have written before work, after work, on weekends, whatever. I retired as editorial page editor of the Free Lance-Star in April and am doing my best not to squander the gift of time. It's weird not to have a deadline. Before, I'd maybe get up, shower, write for an hour, wolf down some cereal and run out the door to work. Now, I can cogitate. I can ruminate. I can be lazy and still get in two hours a day. And, honestly, I think two hours a day of creating fiction is enough. That's 700 hours a year. I'm not sure I have enough readers to justify more than 700 hours a year.
My 13th novel comes out in August ("The Bottom"), and it's got some good prepub reviews already. I am close to finishing the first draft of the next one. I'm trying to write a mystery novel a year now (and have done that while working the last four years). Not sure there's a market for TWO books a year. Plus, I hope to get back to literary fiction, which is what my first nine novels were.
Anyhow, it's good to have time to write, and work out, and spend time with my lovely wife, Karen.
And even to blog.
