No phone. No internet. No television. No other interaction, other than between my story and me. It took taking limiting the time I spend writing each day (i.e., a drive down Only Street), and unplugging from all electronics during that time, for me to be able to hit my natural writing stride.
For many years, I've wondered what it would be like to do what I was meant to do. It took almost as many years for me to make a choice to make writing a priority, then a few more to be able to make writing a priority.
I won't dwell on what I could have done or should have done. That's the past. It can't be rewritten or changed (although I've got a great story idea for a book along those lines). Although I have plans for the future, all I truly have, all any of us have, is today.
By unplugging, I am plugging into that writer part of myself that I knew was in there somewhere. After all this time, I've come home.
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