A Writer’s Year in Review

Live to Write - Write to Live

four seasons treeA year goes by so quickly now.

When I was a child, it took forever to get from one birthday to the next. Time was a slow-moving beast whose sticky paws held me down and made me wait. Now, whole seasons pass in what feels like an afternoon. I turn my back for one minute and Memorial Day has become Labor Day, and then Halloween and the holidays.

When you are a child, you don’t need to do anything today because there is always tomorrow. You have no sense of urgency, no true belief in “The End.” When we grow up, time shrinks. The long, idle days of doing nothing are suddenly filled with a jostling crowd of demands that turn hours into minutes and months into days. We are so busy wrangling whatever is right in front of us that we lose sight of what’s ahead. Suddenly tomorrow is…

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