Talislegger is not working too well tonight. I tried to log in a few times and watched the mac think about whether or not that was actually going to happen. It didn’t—at least not at the writing of this post. I went to the word file, cracked open a document file and started typing.
Yesterday was both a disappointment and a reaffirmation. I don’t think I could function day to day if I didn’t spend at least ten minutes, BIC (Butt in Chair) just writing. I’m doing what is necessary to move the words back up to the prime position in my life/lifestyle. I’ve tried a few different methods—waking up extra early, hiding in my office, etc. The one thing that works is getting out of the house and into my office, a restaurant or a coffee shop and just forcing the words out until they start to make sense. I think this part of writing, the hard part, is what people don’t see and clearly don’t understand.
Being a writer has little in common with a 9 to 5. Your job is to channel creativity into the page by any means necessary. Those means don’t look a bit like the work wageslaves do, nor does it resemble the movie impressions of writing. There is no cool montage with slick music and cut scenes. You’re in your space clawing the words out of you. Sometimes that means staring at a wall or playing a video game or watching random people walk by, but all of it is process and all of it leads to pages.
I’m moving towards something special now with my writing. I’ve come quite far—even from 100 posts ago. Now I wonder what I’ll be like 100 posts from now.