I've been writing a lot less lately. It's not a full stop, but the chair in my office at home definitely doesn't get warmed all that often these days, and I think I know why: it's the house.
I could also blame the fact that I'm working now, and time certainly does factor in but the major reason is all of the home projects I've got going on. Most recently I picked up an antique Budweiser light/sign at a yard sale and I'm working on restoring that and eventually hanging it up in the den. Then there's the mulch I need to finish putting down on the lawn. And there was the fountain on the property that I had to take down, ripping the wires out in the process and necessitating some reseeding in some areas.
But time isn't really the issue here. It hit me today that working on these things fulfills that same creative need as sitting at my desk and banging out a story. In fact I'd argue it does a better job of that since I'm a very tactile person and working on things that change my physical environment feels more rewarding than placing text into a file.
What does it mean for now? Well, my writing is going to slow way down. Or, it has. I'm not sure that's a bad thing. I don't intend for those skills to rust, but working at my own pace feels more relaxing rather than forcing myself to sit at a desk and produce content, which sometimes feels like a punishment.