Just Stewing

I've been stewing in my own juices for a couple of days, torn between working on a writing project that's been on hold for a while, continuing with something I started and don't feel ready to add to just yet or taking a break from it all for a bit while I read other things.

The problem with the no-writing option is that I have itchy trigger fingers and a schizophrenic reading habit. I can't decide which novel I want to spend time with and my fingers would rather be plucking away at my keyboard than holding a book. When I got home from work this evening, I compromised by reading a magazine while my son played games on my computer.

I love magazines, but I rarely read them, because I want to spend a lot of time with them, looking at all of the pictures and reading all of the articles. But I ordered Vogue with my husband's credit card points, so I've had two months worth of catalog-thick periodicals sitting on my desk for a couple of weeks.

With one of my new magazines read and Tina Fey covering the March edition of Vogue staring me in the face, I'm going to compromise again tonight. I think I'll sketch out some characters and plot lines in my journal and see what kind of inspiration I can stir up.

Then again, I still have to finish reading Ann Lamott's Bird by Bird ...