I love writing. Guess that is pretty obvious considering I have completed one novel, and I am hard at work on the second. Getting to write is much easier said than done. Writing creates a unique set of problems.
One, it is a singular and isolating event. It takes you out of your environment and off to some distant place or another life in your head. In this way it is very similar to reading, though when reading you don’t have to worry about how that last word was spelled or if you used the right word (peaked and piqued both sound the same which one is the correct word again).
Second, trying to find the time to sit down and write is much harder than everyone thinks. Usually you start heading for your computer and then remember just as your fanny hits the chair that the laundry needs to be switched over, or you will have to leave in ten minutes on that errand you forgot about. So you stare at the screen wanting to write, but unable to do so.
Third, people don’t realize what it is you are doing. Kids, spouses, and friends don’t realize when you sit down at the computer you are not getting on to surf the web and play games. You are working. The fact that the device you are working on is used for relaxation for them and not for you is lost on them. They also see no problem with the constant interruptions that are flung at you. After all you’re in the middle of the living room.
There are many suggestions about how to combat these issues, but at least for me they don’t seem to work. I can’t lock my door and ignore the world outside of it. As far as the interruptions, I have a better chance of becoming an astronaut and flying to the moon than being able to write undisturbed for longer than five minutes. Still, I write and though life may get in the way I find it an enjoyable and wonderful way to spend those five minutes I get for myself.