Outside it is mind-numbingly cold, the ground is frozen, and I’m dreaming of flowers. Can you tell the seed and plant catalogs have arrived in my mailbox? I’m doomed. We are not even halfway through January. February — the longest month of the year — awaits us, and I am already counting the number of days until Spring arrives. (68 days if you are curious.) It is definitely escapism time, and working on my fantasy story might be the ticket.
Did you write yesterday? Are you writing today?
Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer