Just a quick note on one of my favorite things about being a working writer: A week or so ago, a good writer friend of mine was in town for a stop on his current book tour. He had a few hours to kill before the event, so I took the day off and went to hang out with him, drinking coffee, eating dinner, and talking about everything. What we’ve been up to, the business, how crazy things are, how crazy we are, and so on. And how far we’ve come since we met, and how grateful we are that we’ve had people to share the journey with, who are right there with us and to whom we can bitch and moan about problems that don’t actually look like problems to anyone else.
I didn’t get a lick of work done that day, but you know what? I still felt super-productive at the end of it.