I realize I've been a sorry blogger but I also realize I can't blog and write. I can't read blogs and write either. They're too engrossing and make me wonder if I should be writing something else or, make me want to hurry and finish what I am writing so I can "make the cut" or, make me want to stay as a reader solely (instead of playing writer as well) due to reading about the amazing books out there via book reviews.

So I gave myself permission to take a break from blogger land. (I continue to read a few of my favorite blogs through Google reader though. I can't go without my dose of Macdougal Street. Seriously.)

The past few months have been instructive and crucial for me as a growing writer. From getting my writing critiqued by The Rejectionist herself to turning down a nice trip to L.A. for the SCBWI conference in August, all the happenings thus far have given me a great perspective as to where I am in my author journey: a wonderful spot called chugging on with heightened understanding and hard-earned self-knowledge. (Sorry it couldn't be cooler sounding than that :)

I know now that I was "pampered" by the courses I took for my degree in creative writing. In pursuit of that sought-after literary trophy, voice, we lost sight of that ol fashioned fella, plot. The plot of my short stories could consist of a young Indian girl playing in a visiting doctor's car while carefully describing her grandmother's labored breathing, drifting out the window, as grandmother lay dying and that was plot done just right, by literary standards. So when it came to writing a book, I had huge learning to do. I had to be my own professor and assemble my own course reading kit to learn how to plot and pace. I read and read on the topics and was so thrilled when, in her critique, the Rejectionist complimented my handling of story pacing. Her comment that she would have requested the manuscript had she still been in agenting (which was like getting an A in the course I'd made up, Plotting and Pacing 101), threw me into a frenzy of writing - because I thrive, like most people out there, on affirmations.

But frenzied writing? Not good at all.

I'm the impatient type when it comes to finishing things up. When I'm on a roll and feeling good, I give myself deadlines, I count and calculate, I tell myself you'd better be finished by such and such or else you're not serious about this. I go writing-pace obsessed.

The writing that spews forth under these conditions are often not our best.

I've had to learn to tame my writing aspirations down into the reality zone. I've learned to rein in my timelines, let my words stew a la crock pot, instead of stir frying them. And I've had to put this new found learning to the test; a friend of mine is giving a keynote speech at this year's SCBWI conference in Los Angeles in August and invited me to come along and stay with her. This was months ago, the invitation, so I thought, hey what if I finish my manuscript in time and take it with me?! What if I wrote like crazy and voila, served up my book, sizzling hot?

No, no, no. On discussing writing with the said friend and mulling things over, I realized that I would not be behaving as a mature writer if I wrote frantically just to meet such a deadline. I thanked her for the invitation, but passed and then, turned back to my writing.

I've been writing steadily for four months now. I'm happy with my writing pace - between 500 to 1000 words a day, three days a week. I've made the decision to seriously stay on course with this - which means I'm in for the long haul.