With the wintery weather has once again come an abysmally bad internet connection. It's hardly worth getting on line and fighting to get pages to load. Especially first thing in the morning, the time when I've gotten in the habit of checking my mail and so on before I have to get Mom out of bed and fed.
But once upon a time, early morning was when I did most of my writing, creative or otherwise. I may just fall back into that habit -- there's nothing like having a routine to get your work done.
I've been messing about with my short stories lately. I had a fair number in various states of completion, plus some I felt needed rewrites. I'm pretty satisfied with most of the latter now and am making progress on the first group. Not to mention that the act of working on them has brought new story ideas to investigate.
I never thought of myself as a short story writer, really. If I had a small-scale concept, it was liable to end up as a poem or a song. But it's good to explore a different direction. Unless, of course, you get lost.
But then, I guess writing is sort of about finding your way back home again after a voyage of discovery.