I took vacation last week to see family. No computer, no writing, for a whole week. This is what people do: rest. I slept late every morning. We watched movies, played cards, and ate well. We looked through old photos. We visited.
I had to drive in snow.
I also brought two novels, read both, and even picked up a new one in the airport on the return home. Devouring entire books on vacation is immensely satisfying.
Still. Being away from writing for any length of time fills me with a kind of ache. I miss my characters. I long for their world. Creating stories is the thing that fills my heart with deep joy. Even when I vacation in a Caribbean paradise, I’m eager to return to the keyboard and my art.
The truth is that I never want to take a vacation from writing. Writing is the vacation. Writing is the rest.