I've lost the habit of writing here. I write plenty elsewhere; bits and pieces, fits and starts. Things that will never make it past the drafts folder of my e-mail. Scraps of stories, wisps of ideas: mostly useless, though sometimes satisfying to find and read, small mouthfuls of something rich and delicious (but too much would be both
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Livejournal is in such a state - suddenly nailgunned to that other site in a way that may trigger yet ANOTHER mass exodus, and all of the old regulars finding one by one that they've forgotten how this game is supposed to be played.
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I think it was 18 months before I could finish a non-schlocky novel.
All I can say is: the world will still be there when you've got yourself back. And I hope you are taking care to take time for yourself here and there.
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I am trying, but it's difficult. However: back to the gym this week, training for a 5K with a friend, using my camera on a daily basis again, interest in cooking piqued...I'm doing better than I was even a month ago.
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