Days lost to the fire

Where am I? What day is it? Why is it?

My annual illness has struck early, this year. As always it strikes hard.

I’ve forgotten quite what it feels like to be well. Hopefully all will be remembered soon…

As usual the main object of this piece is not looking for sympathy. I’m using my inconvenience as a lesson once again.

The lesson this time is you cannot predict the future. Preparation may be almost as good as a crystal ball… But it is only ever almost.

Right now, I am thoroughly regretting setting the rules of my daily writing challenge as harshly as I did.

Because the challenge isn’t just to write every day for a year. It’s to publish a piece near enough from scratch, every day.

At first it seemed easy. Of course it did. Of course.

That led to overconfidence. If I had seen this illness coming, I would perhaps have set the rules a little looser.

Now that I’m in the grips of it, the challenge seems almost impossible. But nevertheless I persist, just barely.

Perhaps I’m keeping the challenge going by token only. Certainly this piece, if not others, are not on par with many of the others. Maybe it would be better just to write every day, and not worry about publishing.

Naturally, now I have set the rules i am reluctant to change them. That and I know a relaxation risks editors block setting in. Maybe that’s a good thing — maybe I should allow myself to sort the wheat from the chaff prior to publishing.

I’m not sure — your thoughts would be appreciated.

Normal (as much as that word applies) service to be resumed as soon as the damn illness subsides. This includes responses to responses, which I have been thoroughly neglecting. My apologies.

I’ll still publish a piece daily, no promises as to its quality… (is there ever?)