It’s been a real struggle to get time (not to mention mental energy!) to write since I had a baby last year. Lately it’s been even more of a struggle because of some family issues, my husband’s health, Mom’s three flat tires in two days … stuff just keeps happening and piling up.

Last week I realized time was running short to meet the goal I’d set in critique group. I usually work through lunch when I’m at the office, and just sneak enough time surfing the web to check this blog and maybe see where Johnny is filming, then get back to work. But last Friday it was quiet, I’d handled the latest crises (yes, plural) for my boss, and I decided I would take a bit of ‘me’ time. I grabbed my lunch, opened Word, and began working on my manuscript.

Heaven.

I spent an entire hour worrying about Harriet and Nick and their adventure, their romance, and not about purchase orders and P-card receipts and the Canadian currency exchange rate.

There are times when the story doesn’t work and I just want to bang my head on the keyboard and wonder why I ever thought I could write a book. But last Friday every word was perfect, every line of dialogue was witty, the description sparkled. When I needed it most, writing was there for me as a respite.

How about you? Is there something you escape to when you just want to yell “Calgon, take me away!”