Writing, travelling

Being on the road is being good for my writing in some ways, and difficult in others. I'm somewhat at a remove from the daily demands of life, which makes it easier to carve out writing time. But this brain of mine gets very easily thrown off track. When we move from one location to another, as we're doing every month to two months, it's days before I can bring my concentration to bear again. At the moment, novel-in-progress Donkey is at 22,685 words, which is about 5,000 words behind where I need it to be if I'm to keep to the deadline I've set. And I haven't looked at Blackheart Man since November 4 or so. Nevertheless, I'm pleased that I'm almost 1/4 of the way to a completed first draft of Donkey. I'm writing random scenes as they catch my fancy. When I have enough of them, I'll be able to see whether and how they fit together. And a chance comment someone made last night has me toying with a nifty new idea that I may be able to use in Donkey, or perhaps in a short story.

One aspect of life on the road is being more difficult than we'd planned for it to be. I've been waiting for a number of institutions, in some cases since last June, to pay me for freelance work I've done for them. As a result, my current contribution to our expenses is close to nil. I won't go into the litany of woes and setbacks the tardiness of those institutions is causing, because dwelling on it disheartens me beyond belief. Instead, some of the good stuff: people are looking out for us; we're seeing some beautiful parts of the world; we're in each others' company and loving it; we're seeing old friends and making new ones; we're working and making art again, and recovering functionality bit by bit, despite it all. So there.