Invisible minutes

It's 2023 and I'm moving to Domažlice. I'm going there voluntarily, for my love. I don't expect to meet her there – it's 1845 and Božena Němcová is arriving in the same town. Because she has to. What has changed for us female writers since then? We both face similar challenges. We steal time for our writing, we justify ourselves, we want to create homes for our loved ones, but also literature. We feel guilty for needing to write and be ourselves. Can we handle it?