Making time for writing
On a Sunday in July we agreed a new schedule was needed if I was ever to have any time to actually write rather than talk about being a writer. I remember preaching to my loved mother that a writer writes every day. I was in a season of writing, pouring out words like rain from a torn asunder storm cloud. I am probably close to the age my mom was when I pompously pronounced those words to her. Had I been closer, she could have, probably should have, washed my mouth out with s
