As a writer, I have three minds, and one of them I don't like.
Before I explain what I mean, a little background. I've been a writer all my literate life. I'm 51 now, and for the last 20 years, I have not been writing as consistently as I could, because I've been so distracted by a rewarding but often turbulent career in PR and advertising and caring for a beloved, profoundly autistic child with a high degree of needs. During that time, I was still writing and, blessedly, having pieces published in Kendo World magazine, but I was not practicing writing as I think it can or should be: writing consistently with some kind of daily or weekly regularity, and submitting stories, my focus, to online and print publications. That's what I am getting back to and the past two years have been fruitful, disciplined and productive. I have in large part my employer to thank for that , and I do so every day. It's been somewhat surprising for me to realize how much of your intellectual and emotional energy can be absorbed by your job. But that...