This is a theory debated in a good movie called IQ. Very funny and romantic movie. But yesterday I had two separate conversations that seemed to highlight the calendar of my life. I don’t live in months, years, days or weeks. My life has seasons: Spring (Jan 2-May 5), Summer (May 12-Aug 5) and Fall (Aug 19 – Dec 5). I also call them semesters. I’m currently 9.5 semesters old. My spring starts cold and snowy. This year my summer hasn’t been very warm.
What does all of this have to do with writing? Well, when your life is broken down into such small chunks and you feel like you have thousands of things to do in those short periods but no time to do them, something has to be sacrificed. In most cases, it’s the stuff you like most. In my case it’s writing. The world of the Oak Wand is calling me but I just can’t seem to make the time to answer. So time doesn’t exist.
This is the Novel Mage saying, *POOF*