This Is Not My Garden

Today is the last day of August, and if I am to maintain my goal of at least one post a month, I need to write. Now.
Not long ago, I did a search of excellent authors with reputations for equally excellent blogs. Guess what? Most of them hadn't posted in months. Too busy writing "real" stuff, no doubt. And while I agree that blogs are useful for connecting with readers and strengthening online presence, they take away writing time.
This summer, the Muse has been good to me: I finished one novel, made notes for another, and whipped up (very) rough drafts for six short stories. I didn't have time for much blogging, and even less time for gardening. But therein lies the great thing about an active imagination. Ensconced in my office, I can pretend the lovely garden in the above photo is just outside my door.