Lately it occurred to me that I literally can't remember the last time I was bored. It's not only that my life keeps me pretty busy: work, writing, family, travel. Even with a schedule like that, there's downtime of a sort, like the 1400 round trip miles I recently drove (kids were plugged in to iThings the whole way), or like the hour or so spent yesterday at the audiologist with the younger kid. But I use those bits of time wisely. I nearly always have a book or Kindle on me, or in a pinch my phone with the Kindle app, so sometimes I can catch a little reading. On long car rides I often listen to audio books.
But even when I don't have access to books, I'm not bored because my mind is full of my writing. I can spend contented hours writing dialog in my head, scheming my way out of whatever plot pitfalls I've written myself into, and creating ideas for new stories. I guess wherever I am and whatever I'm doing, I have my muse to entertain me, and that's a wonderful thing, a precious gift.
Helps make up for the fact that my muse is a mean, heartless bitch who doesn't listen to a word I say.
While they're doing this, I'm sitting in the shade and thinking about a Good Bones sequel.