My friend Sarah came to visit (from out of state) last weekend. Also this month, she is participating in NaNoWriMo, an international writing challenge to write a 50,000 word draft of a novel during the month of November. I’ve done NaNoWriMo* in the past, but skipped it this year to concentrate on Campfire Tales.

On Friday, Sarah and I watched Dunkirk at the New Beverly Cinema, followed by late-night Mexican food at El Coyote.

Saturday, we lunched on Thai food at Ruen Pair, saw the play The Man Who Came to Dinner at the Actors Co-op, and then baked this pie:

Seriously Black Bottom Pie**

Sunday, we took the pie to a church potluck (and ate a whole lot of comfort food, along with a piece of our incredible pie – before it met a very receptive audience), then later dined on Indian food at India’s Clay Pit, and went to a reading of short stories.

What we didn’t do? Write. (Technically.)

tilling – cultivation of the land in order to raise crops ~ Webster’s Dictionary

From now on, instead of accusing myself of procrastination when I’m unable to write — due to actively living my life and discovering new story material (for instance, get this: A waiter with a neck tattoo who speaks like a baby girl, inspirational writing gold!), I’m going to call that time, “Story tilling.”

OK, OK… Cheating? Maybe. So what? After many years of, “not writing = guilt,” it’s time to even the scales a bit, and give myself a break. It’s not like we did nothing.

(However, maybe next week I’ll explain how doing nothing is actually just me being “fallow.” Farming term justification is awesome!)

*P.S. Go NaNoWriMo Writers — you can do it! When you need inspiration, I recommend story tilling.

**Recipe from The Southern Pie Book by Jan Moon.