Time. Online and offline, focused or unfocused, frivolous or functional.

I spent a lot of time online before I began writing my first book. But as the story, characters, words and phrases took over, gradually it was just me and my keyboard. All my spare time (and much that wasn't spare at all) went into writing. Who had time to go online?

Once I'd sent Owned and Owner off to the publisher I plunged straight into As She's Told. Promoting the first book took me into some forums, but before long I was back in my writer's cocoon. How could I waste time networking? It was hard enough getting back into my narrative every weekend, after a week at work. I fantasized about a place out of the normal timestream, where I could have all the time I wanted without taking any away from my family. Sometimes all I wanted was just to write!

Good thing I hadn't discovered Fetlife.

Five years went by, and I put everything I had into As She's Told. When it came out, I was damned if it was going to disappear after a brief run. My intense preoccupation shifted to promotion. (Intense preoccupation, hell; call it an obsession.) And I got totally hooked into online social networking, of the kink variety, where most of my promotion took place. Every once in a while the questions would pop up: "What are you writing?" "When's the next book coming out?" I was too busy promoting my magnum opus. Who had time to write? And for a long time I didn't think I had another book in me.

But now I'm mapping one out. How will I find time, in between Fetlife and Goodreads and updating my website? How will I get anything done with distractions only a keystroke away, whenever I get stuck? Damned if I know.

That's the status report from this sometime writer. I'll keep you posted.