...as my knitting weeps

Yesterday I spent most of the day writing. My muse grabbed me by the hand and gently led me to a wonderful world where creativity rules and writing is easy. To say the least, it was a very enjoyable day.

I recently read an article which appeared in one of my favourite writing magazines. It was an article written by an popular author. The essence of the article was that if you didn't write for at least fifteen minutes each and every day than you weren't a writer. To me, it read like an ultimatum. You know the scene, you're an elementary school student. You are approached by a group of students. They look at you from head to toe and then they say,"Unless you were pink then your not one of us."
Oh how you wish to be one of them. You would do anything...anything.
Well, I've always been a loner so facing that scenario I have always responded the same way, "Sorry what you see is what you get."
So, needless, to say I didn't respond well to the ultimatum. It was a good article full of good advice but the ultimatum brought ants to my picnic.
Do I want to be a writer?
Yes.
Do I want to improve my writing?
Yes.
Will I write as much as I can each and every day?
Yes.
...but I don't need to be bullied by a popular author or anyone else.

Today I met with the members of the Mayne Island writers group. I won't be wearing pink.