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lauraanne_gilmanThis morning I woke up with a Plan. I had all day in front of me, and it was going to be spent Writing. I was going to kick the shit out of this project, and nail several thousand words to the wall.
Um. Well. Someone forgot to tell my brain.
It happens. It's never pretty, but it happens. You sit at the computer with a story to tell, and there's nothing else waiting on you, nothing else that needs doing, and yet the words don't come. Nothing stirs in your brain, nothing moves your fingers on the keyboard.
You can either keep plugging, getting more and more annoyed, or you can give up and go do something else.
I gave up. I did laundry. I cleaned. I changed out cold and warm-weather clothing. I brushed the cats. I had a new friend stop by to visit. I dealt with all my pending e-mail. I took Boomer outside and let him investigate the newly-bloooming garden (yes, he's trained to the leash. Mostly trained, anyway. Like a 4-legged two year old). I made a nice, sit-down lunch (and OMG chicken-apple sausage? *swoons*).
And every now and then I'd go back to the laptop and stare at the page. And type a few words. And think about what I had typed, and type some more.
And as of 9pm this evening? I had managed over fifteen hundred words.
It's not what I had wanted. It's not what I could have done. but it's a thousand-plus more than I would have done if I had kept hitting my head against the wall.
And now I can go off and Play tomorrow with a clear conscience.
Sometimes it's all about letting go in order to achieve.
(and sometimes it's not. But that's a koan for another day)
Um. Well. Someone forgot to tell my brain.
It happens. It's never pretty, but it happens. You sit at the computer with a story to tell, and there's nothing else waiting on you, nothing else that needs doing, and yet the words don't come. Nothing stirs in your brain, nothing moves your fingers on the keyboard.
You can either keep plugging, getting more and more annoyed, or you can give up and go do something else.
I gave up. I did laundry. I cleaned. I changed out cold and warm-weather clothing. I brushed the cats. I had a new friend stop by to visit. I dealt with all my pending e-mail. I took Boomer outside and let him investigate the newly-bloooming garden (yes, he's trained to the leash. Mostly trained, anyway. Like a 4-legged two year old). I made a nice, sit-down lunch (and OMG chicken-apple sausage? *swoons*).
And every now and then I'd go back to the laptop and stare at the page. And type a few words. And think about what I had typed, and type some more.
And as of 9pm this evening? I had managed over fifteen hundred words.
It's not what I had wanted. It's not what I could have done. but it's a thousand-plus more than I would have done if I had kept hitting my head against the wall.
And now I can go off and Play tomorrow with a clear conscience.
Sometimes it's all about letting go in order to achieve.
(and sometimes it's not. But that's a koan for another day)
