This summer has been a whirlwind. Between running a seasonal business, managing a rental property, camping and regular life stuff… my writing has suffered.

And the guilt has set in.

I have lofty goals and the only way to reach them is to go above and beyond, to not just step towards them when life is lax, but also when I am feeling the pressure from all sides. People don’t achieve greatness in the sparce and beautiful spare, uninterrupted time… they achieve it by being on the helm of their ship, even when the wind blows strong.

Thus the guilt and feelings of failure. I didn’t completely abandon my writing during this season, so maybe one of my lessons is to give myself some credit. I met with my amazing critique group, listened to writing-themed podcasts and I did get a few words down on the page. I didn’t make much progress on my main projects, but I did reclaim my joy for the craft.

As we head into Fall, I realize that even though our business is closed for the year and the rental property has new tenants in it, there’s still plenty to crowd out my writing and take up all my time. As my husband says, “There’s always something.”

I can’t let this be my reality.

A writing colleague challenged me to write at least 10 minutes every day for a week. If I succeeded, she’d buy me a latte. I love a good challenge and I love a free latte! So, I did it. Most of that week, I only fit in the 10 minutes, which is not enough to focus on the manuscript of a novel. So I did writing prompt sprints. IT WAS SO FUN. A couple days, I got my husband to do it with me (he is not a writer) and also my daughter and her boyfriend. We came up with some crazy stuff and I was reminded how enjoyable it is to release my creative side and see what it pumps out.

Does 10 minutes a day really meet my expectations of myself? Well, no. But it’s better than nothing and it keeps the creative juices flowing.

So I commit to writing everyday this month. I need short, achievable goals. And if I reach this goal, my husband is taking me on a date to my favorite French restaurant.

I can do this. But it won’t be easy.

My office overlooks the backyard. I love looking out the window at my garden and the birds and the squirrels. I also like things organized and neat.

We have two pear trees. Two gnarly, out-of-control pear trees. We pruned them a lot this year. so they are happily producing more pears than the entire neighborhood could eat. They fall to the ground and start rotting. They attract bees and rats. One of the granddoggies has no self-awareness, steps on the rotting fruit, and tracks it into the house. The pears must be picked up.

As I stand at my desk upon returning from vacation, getting ready to write, I look out the window. There are pears everywhere. An abundance of rotting, nasty pears all over the ground.

Every instinct in me instantly pulls at me to go pick up the pears. It’ll only take 15 minutes. Then I can write. I stare at the pears. I glance at my keyboard. It really would only take 15 minutes. Then… I’ll write. Or I’ll notice dog poop needs to be scooped and the lawn furniture needs to be cleaned and the plants need to be watered and then it’ll be lunch time.

I peel my eyes away from the littered ground and I write. That’s what it will take. If I want to reach my goals, I need to write, even when there are pears on the ground.

This was days ago. I have since picked up the pears… one and a half five-gallon buckets full! This morning, I scheduled myself a writing time block from 9am to 10:30am. It was 8:59am. I hear the washing machine buzz, notifying me that my clothes are ready for the dryer. I think.. oh, it’s ok if I’m a couple minutes late to my self-scheduled time block.

No.

The laundry can wait.

I must write.