It has been a long day, Gentle Reader, beginning with this reprimand:
And ending with caffeination aided by the Amazon Princess:
And I should be, writing that is. I have much to write: articles, reviews, class notes, chapters of the novel, chapters of the academic book. Yet still, I find myself struggling to get past that first bump in the road. Sometimes writing is not as much BICHOK (Butt in chair, hands on keyboard) as it is unscrewing your head and dumping it out on the desk, sorting through the rubbish to find the tiny bright needle in the haystack of nonsense.
I am a writer constantly pulled in fourteen different directions. I write fiction; I read fiction; I write academic articles; I write non-scholarly blogs; I author class notes; I grade student papers. etc. etc. ad nauseam. Each writing requires its own ritual. For example:
No music. Tea or coffee. Quick bursts, usually early in the morning or late afternoon, both at home.
Instrumental music. Snacks. Quick bursts, usually mid-afternoon, after classes.
Music with words (bless you, Pandora’s Mumford and Sons station!). Slow and leisurely, usually when I need a break from Big Writing.
Music with words, but more aggressive than Blogging music. Quick, with frequent breaks. At any time of the day.
I am also a hyper-organizer/procrastinator, and have been known to rearrange entire rooms in my quest to procrastinate. But then I learned that my procrastination techniques are a form of writing. They’re when I do my best thinking, emptying out the cobwebs and pulling together thoughts and ideas while I clean, or file, or label.
It was that discovery, Friends, that made me feel better about my writing schedules. Usually, my writerly nesting (for lack of a better phrase) comes right before a large output, a massive amount of fiction and non-fiction production.
So Great Hera, I am ready to write!
Like what you’ve read? Visit my website: The Life and Times of the Postmodern Bluestocking.