|Her poppa is holding her in this one.|
We call her Squidge. And also Adele, which is her name. It turns out that babies - especially babies who arrive five whole weeks before you expect them to - well, they don't leave much time to write. Or blog. Or shower. And it turns out that you have a choice between writing, blogging and showering on a regular basis, showering wins. (I know! Who'd have thought?)
So this is just to say there's a gap, and I know there's a gap, and I'm working on fixing things. And that's ok.
Here in the world of the internet, us writing folk like to project an image of perpetual productiveness. There are the word counts on twitter, the freshly written teasers (and the not-so-freshly written teasers). We like to make it seem as much as possible like we're Getting Things Done. And you know, some of us are Getting Things Done. And that is excellent. And some of us are Getting A Little Bit Done. This is excellent too. Writing in big chunks and writing in little chunks still adds up to the same thing in the end.
And some of us - well, some of us aren't, at the moment. Life intervenes, and sometimes big things take over for a while. But the stuff that we live out when we're not writing is just as important, if not more important. Because all this other stuff is what fuels our writing in the first place.
So sometimes there are gaps. But the gaps are as valuable, and we are better writers for them. It's just a matter of knowing when it's time to go back to writing again after. And working out how to make writing fit into life when all the foundations have shifted, working out new ways to make writing happen. I'm typing this with one arm and holding a sleeping baby in the other. I know that it's possible.
We can't always live in huge productive bursts. Sometimes we live one sentence, one word, one breath at a time. And this is a very good thing.