I’ve only managed about a thousand words so far.
I like routines. I like predictability. If I don’t have a routine, I have trouble functioning. I normally sit down in the morning, write (and surf), stop for lunch, then get back to writing in the afternoon, closing up shop when Todd gets home.
But today I took the dog out for a walk earlier rather than later (after reading this fascinating link from Boing Boing about NaKo chocolates), then got a little writing done before lunch. Then my friend Suzanne popped over between her split shifts, disturbing my second run at it (where I was making gains).
When I’m disrupted, either by internal forces (oooh, message boards!) or external ones (of course you can come over Suzanne!), I have a hard time getting back to it. Feel a little like, “well, today’s scrubbed, so you should just leave off until tomorrow!”
Which is devil’s talk.
Especially frustrating is all the time I spent pointlessly scanning boards, when, if I really am going to ‘time waste’, I could be time-wasting on really NEAT things, like reading nifty non-fiction, getting back into good regular fiction, playing around with other writing concepts, doodling, etc. What is it about the Internet that keeps me from other things? Has it taken up the ‘void’ in my life left from leaving TV 95% behind? Perhaps. Perhaps its an outgrowth of loneliness, too. While I may lurk most of the time, at least reading other conversations and my reactions to them feel like I’m connecting with other people. An illusion, I know.
In September, and more so in October, I was utterly focused on Sparrow King. And when I joined NaNoWriMo, that focus was distilled into pure energy, it seemed. Every day I did world-building, I did research, I outlined, all hungry to begin the book in earnest on November 1st. The focus I had only achieved once before – studying for Cooking, both in my schooling and in working towards the Red Seal exam. That’s the focus I want all the time. I suppose it was easier to manage in school, as I had constant feedback, whereas now I’m working on my lonesome, digging, excavating, trying to complete the work, but with no feedback. Just … hope. But hope hasn’t ever really fueled me. It’s too soft, too far away. If it had, I think I’d be in a different place right now in my life.
And I have such little time before I head back to Esnagi, if I go there, or to another job if I don’t (for if I change my mind, I will find some other work in town to do). I cannot waste it. And I don’t – not entirely – as I do write.
Does it sound bizarre that I would relish the opportunity of going to an office with my book, writing there, among other people? Some of my most creative output was writing (or doodling) on the company dime. Furtive typing. Scribbling ideas on scratch paper.
I know … completely incompatible with the ideal of the solitary writer with cup of tea and bunny slippers digging her way through a first draft! Maybe I’m too comfortable in my little office. Maybe I need to compete. Maybe that’s what NaNoWriMo gave me.
Sorry for the babble. I will get my 2,500 words tonight, even if that means bringing the laptop downstairs and writing while Todd ‘rocks out’ to Guitar Hero.