My Writing Life

Started back up again.
I promised myself I’d follow my calendar and use those three days a week to write.
I’d actually promised myself the week before but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. And I’d almost blew this week off,  making for myself the most feeble of excuses.  Too tired.  Not enough time in the day. What’s the point anyway.
But,  as I was forming these excuses in between the pages of the book I was reading, my wife called down from upstairs. “When are you going to start writing?”
“Tomorrow, ” I blurted.” Tomorrow night. ”
” Really? ” is what I think she said.
” Yeah,  I’ve been putting it off. I’ll start after 9:00pm.”
I’ve got the time programmed into my Google Calendar so it pops up as an email notification,  just to drive home the guilt of not writing when I already feel like garbage for not doing it.
“Good, ” she said.
It’s one thing not to write and feel horrible, it’s a whole other thing to lie to my wife and not do what I said I would do. So,  I now promised her I would write,  which meant I had to.
So,  after spending the day,  wrecking my brain for something to write about,  then coming home to try and find ways to fill my time so I would purposely miss my scheduled start time,  I found myself at my keyboard getting ready to write. I stayed like that for almost ninety minutes,  listening to music,  and not writing or reading or anything.  Just sat there,  and just as I was about to fall asleep at my desk I told myself I would not go to bed without writing one sentence.
“I have nothing to write about, ” I typed.” and I’ve spent an hour and a half proving that. ”
I got up to go when I glanced over at my index card filing drawer,  the old school ones like you would have seen in your elementary school library, but mine is just the one,  black drawer. There’s a file there called ‘ideas’.  I’d not used the file in a while,  keeping my story ideas confined to my notebooks,  so the ideas were old. Before going to bed,  I thought I’d go over them. Maybe an idea would generate a dream that would give me something to ponder over on my way to work the following day.
Sure enough,  I found an idea that looked good.  I’d even outlined part of it and there were sketches of characters I’d created for no other reason than to create them.  And then I started to write.  Oh,  deleting the typing then deleting with more typing then reading and rewarding and another hour and 500 words later,  I was feeling pretty good about myself.
And I did the same tonight and it felt good,  too.

The thing I’m taking away from all of this is that sometimes,  you just need to sit and wait and be patient and if you want it bad enough, the stories will come.  The trick for me, though, is to move quickly once they show up,  because if you don’t,  you will end up sitting there and waiting for the next one to come along.

And for the record,  and much to my pleasure,  this was typed entirely using that cheap,  little Lenore tablet I got from Staples for $100. It’s so much fun to write with.  Not to plug any one operating system or hardware,  but with this Lenovo,  and the Android operating system,  I’ve got my OneNote notebook linked across all my devices,  so that if I have an idea on one of my devices,  it will link to all of them.  I love living in the future.

Thanks for letting me share,  folks,

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One Response to My Writing Life

  1. Karen says:

    Yes Rob, that is exactly how stories come “in” .. you feel them first and that suddenly there it is!! I am the same way with painting my pictures. I feel them, then the feeling gets stronger, then little bits of images start to appear in my mind and then while painting it, more comes in, some little changes in colours or image. It is the creative process.. We just have to get the hell out of the way and let it come in…. You will be a great published writer if you just let it happen and not be attached to how it happens or how it looks. Best of luck buddy

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