I’ve got several parties lined up, among them one today at my old college, Somerville College, Oxford, and a Society of Authors party on Thursday.
Part of me is longing to settle down to long hours of serious writing, and wishing I had not committed to go to these winy, distracting events.
On the other hand, after about three long days of intense writing, I am tired, and badly need social life, metaphorical fresh air, a short break. I often invite a friend to lunch after a few days of work.
And so a party for an intense woman like me functions like a complete break. I clear my head, and come back energized (am more an extrovert than an introvert in that way.)
Though when I just getting into a piece of writing, the break is disastrous, and I lose the thread of what I was doing. On the other hand, after a few days of work, it is invigorating.
I haven’t worked much for the last few days though, what with a friend for lunch yesterday, the weekly clean-up and organization for the cleaner etc.
Oh well, the other things with parties is that they happen when they happen, and cannot be scheduled to optimally fit into your writing routines (other people’s parties, that is.)
And I do enjoy them, mostly.
A writing life is partly a matter of managing yourself for optimal productivity, like a football manager manages his team.