I really and truly have nothing to say. I’m considering just writing nothing for the next ten minutes. That is an important action to take, in fact. Every well established writer I’ve listened to talks about the importance of routine. You have to come to the page every day and try to get something–anything–down. Even if what comes out of you is garbage or drivel, at least something is happening.
If only I could instill that kind of dedication in my kids. Don’t get me wrong, they are dedicated to video games and youtube to the point of abject idiocy, but neither are giving them any sort of life advantage or experiences. The skills they learn in Fortnite and Call of Duty are limited at best and don’t expand to the point of any realistic gain. I suppose I could argue they are learning that practice makes perfect, but they are simultaneously learning that practice ought to be fun in order to have any real value and that is simply untrue.
Which brings us back to where I am now: grinding out six more minutes of writing in spite of having no desire to do so.
I am planning to apply for a sabbatical next year. The plan is to write a novel but beyond the novel itself to develop a daily plan for anyone wishing to write a novel or develop a lifestyle around discipline and creation. It ought to be transcribable for business, music, or anything. In essence I’m plotting a way of life. That begins with the central tenet of write no matter what followed by having measured short a long term rewards. What those long term rewards are beyond the work itself is unknown.
Some Thoughts:
- I’m alone in this time zone for now. I don’t like that feeling. I do like the feeling that out there under the same stars is a woman who loves me as much as I, her.