Tag: Unfocused

The Writing Moment

The coffee shop had net problems today. Shrugging that away, I told myself, “Just write and check the net later.” Two and a half hours later, I’d finished 2300 words and the story had progressed as if I had some notion of what the hell was going on.

The Hunger Band was on my stomach’s center stage by then, their first notes careening through the rest of my bod. Coffee shop net still down, I listened to the Hunger Band’s sorrowful lyrics about dying of starvation and decided, “Yes, I’ve written enough. Time to go home and eat.”

Now to explore the kitchen to see what the Hunger Band will find acceptable. Salad? Maybe. Burrito?

Hmmm.

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The Writing Moment

I’ve been sparking with new novel ideas. Concepts. Characters. Settings. You know. Novel stuff.

Nothing worked up enough energy to be a dance partner. Disappointment dressed in depression put in an ugly appearance.

Wait a second, I reminded myself. I have three other starts which I can pull up and fertilize and build into something. All were good concepts, pleasing to write, fun.

Also, self, your writing process has never been to figure it all out and then sit and write. You usually/almost always just write. Let it flow. Get out of the way of your thinking and just do it. So why are you trying to figure it all now? Dumb ass.

I acknowledged all this from my inner writer as true. So, okay. I decided I’d open a start and let it rip.

But instead, washing the windshield before departing for the coffee shop, a new seed from all that thinking sprouted. A new chapter positioned itself in my head. Setting, character, plot began growing out of that new sprout.

Sitting with coffee at hand, I punched out five pages in half an hour. A new novel was underway. Damn, it’s good to be a writer.

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