Out of Focus

I seem to have a lot of stuff on the go at the moment.  There's an enormous crochet project, which is probably going to take about three months and an awful lot of wool.  There's the novel to edit, of course, which currently stands at twenty thousand words of second draft.  There's Lavendar, who keeps poking me and insisting that I write more stories about what she did when she grew up.  There are all the other people who keep sending me stories and asking me for feedback (I love you all, guys, honestly!).  And of course there's work and family and the all-important Twitter to keep track of.  And, just occasionally, this blog.

I envy anyone with the focus to do one thing really well, rather than my usual trick of doing lots of things in a half-arsed, mediocre manner.  I have to have deadlines to get stuff done, and even then I can't devote too much time to something before my brain begins to itch and I need to do something else.  Writing every day in November is wonderful, but by the 1st of December I'm desperate to get back to other things.  There's simply no way I can sustain that kind of pace outside of November.  Not when there are things to crochet and giant squids to make and jackets to sew and...