I took a weekend entirely away from home. I spent all weekend alone in a hotel at a writer's conference. All of that is just odd. I haven't gone anywhere alone that wasn't to take care of family things since I was in high school.
But here I am, channeling my inner Hemingway, drinking cocktails at the hotel bar with my pens and paper.
In reality, I am trying to make sense of my mental overload of information, ideas, and imposter syndrome. And as I say, an idea for a writing project pops into my head. Go figure.
I just want to find a cohesive way to integrate all the things that I enjoy—writing, reading, yoga, travel, wine—into something that helps to counter the expenses of those hobbies. Even $100 a month for a writing project would cover a book, book club wine, and at least two yoga sessions in that same month.
Now I need to take the time to reverse engineer that goal and find the ways to do it. And that is the hardest part of all.
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