Escapism

It has been ever-so-tempting to give my opinions on some of the big news stories of the last few weeks, but I decided to refrain.  There is no point in yet another voice expressing horror over the holding of three women hostage for 10 years, practically in their own backyards.  There is no point in my expressing outrage and disappointment over the horrendous waste of taxpayer dollars as the GOP tried for the 37^th time to overturn Obamacare. (I think it would be a more successful venture if they waited to see how large a debacle it actually creates before trying to vote it away.)  When I heard about the trains in Connecticut, I managed to put it out of my mind and I fooled myself into believing that I could become immune to tragedy, at least for a little while. 

I admit to escapism, in that, instead of writing about the issues for the past few weeks, I have been indulging in actually working on a new book, or an "old" new book, but one that is only half finished as of this date.  I made myself a firm promise to add 1000-1500 words per day to the manuscript and to finish the writing of it by the end of June.  I have to say that sometimes words just flow and other times I have to wrench them from my fingertips with excruciating pain and slowness, but for two nights now nothing has come forth, despite my best attempts.  I find I am not at all immune to tragedy, as I sit here and mourn and worry about the victims of the tornadoes in Oklahoma.  And so I will fall yet another 1000 words behind…but that’s okay.  There’s a time for everything, and this is not the time for writing.