I’m starting to think that I’m doomed, when it comes to planning what I’m going to write. This probably should have been obvious to me, given that I’m pretty bad at outlining, and yet! Here I am, surprised at how my writing plans for the last quarter of the year have been blown out of the water — because I got An Idea, and since it’s new, it’s louder than all the other ideas…which means it’s getting written first.

This isn’t a bad thing, and I’m certainly grateful for the mostly-constant stream of inspiration, but it does make me fight the encroaching feeling that I’m going to run out of time before I write everything I want to. I know, I know, that’s a given, seeing how I have not yet figured out how to become immortal (if there are any vampires looking for a girlfriend, I am free tomorrow night, and pretty much every night thereafter; hit me up!), but given the state of the world, things feel much more urgent (or maybe “dire” is a better word?) than ever.

Part of that is growing up; part of that is the barrage of constant bad news. I’m getting better at reminding myself that social media is about Feelings, not Facts, but I struggle to get distance, and when I don’t, I get all stressed, and then I tank my mindset for writing, and then I feel like I have even less time…

What a time to be alive, truly.

The solution, I think, is not necessarily to write more, or faster; it’s not about stressing myself to write every free moment. I think it’s about being completely present in each project as I’m writing it, being devoted to its joys and its annoyances, to the soggy middle and the hamstrung endings. If I worry about what I want to get done, I miss the small things, and since so much of art, in any form, is about elevating those moments, or at least preserving them, it’s better to find my place and inhabit it, totally and completely.

Does this mean I’ll write more? Probably not. But hopefully it means a deeper, richer experience, so that no matter where my journey ends, writing- and life-wise, I’ll know I gave my best to each moment. It may not be enough, but it will have been honest, and it will have been real. Sometimes, that’s the best you can hope for.