There is a quote on how writers have homework every night for the rest of their lives.

That burden is real, beautiful, and hefty.

Since I started to write again, I have no rest. Every spare minute of my life is spent working on my current book, thinking about it, plotting in my mind and, mostly, stressing over every single word, scene, punctuation mark, and idea on it.

And that constant stress has taken a toll.

There is always a price to pay when it comes to achieving your dreams. In this case, my dreams are demanding a chunk of my inner peace and three-quarters of my heart. But I’m not willing to pay. And so I have stepped back.

I do my best work in silence and isolation, without peering through the window, fully immersed in the swamps and black holes of my mind.

I’ll edit this weekend, as I always do. I will cry a little, as it often happens. But I will not spend time on social media, I will not compare myself to anybody else, and I will not count the hours as they tickle by.

Quality over quantity.