Distraction

I need a good distraction. Or rather, a shut-off valve for the old brain. I’m starting to understand why writer’s go on writer’s retreats, where they isolate themselves from the rest of the world and buckle down on whatever it is they’re working on.

I can’t remember which author it was that rented an office or a hotel room and just shut themselves in whenever they’re working on a manuscript (Toni Morrison?). I hope that someday I’m sufficient enough financially to not need another job as a writer.

I would like to be able to rent a hotel room or a small office. I would like to put up 3X5 cards and strings, Carrie Matheson style.

Better yet, I’d like to write something that turns massive, so I can build a beautiful house with rooms specifically designed to help me with maintaining the focus and the project. Perhaps with stimuli to help induce creativity as well. (A mushroom farm?)

I miss time to myself.

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