I abandon my writing in small ways everyday. I put off writing to do myriad things, from obsessively organizing books I'll never read to massaging the neighborhood cat.
I also take on different identities and grand life plans. One week I'm a French art dealer, the next I'm fighting to save our rivers and oceans in a courtroom. Oh, and religions? Sure, I'll fool around with those as well. Which god(dess) will it be today? Who up there gets to hear my voice tonight? Well, whoever you are, would you mind recording what I say so I can listen to it and try to memorize my tone and inflection? I've been having a difficult time picking my voice out from the crowd for nearly 30 years now.
But then again, maybe these wild shifts in identity and wide range of interests are nothing more than ingredients for some stew of a story. Just throw it all into the pot, Meg. It will simmer for a long time and the scent of it from the stove will drive you crazy, but you'll soon get to taste it. And you'll taste it not just on your tongue, but in your day-to-day life. Are you sure you're ready for this story to take over? Yes. Let her speak.
Just be patient with me. The feast is about to start.