Dare I walk through it? For the first time in many months, possibly years, I have few commitments this fall. No classes to teach, no course prep. No events to plan. I feel like I’ve been given a lovely gift wrapped package and I’m scared to open it.
I’ve been wanting to really focus on writing for a very, very long time and I have always found reasons to put it off, chiefly monetary. Working for pay was just too important. I promised myself when I hit 60 I would turn my attention to that intention. Well 60 came and went. And guess what. I found so many things to draw my focus away from that intention. Classes to teach. Money to make. Oh and all that other stuff that keeps me, that keeps you, from doing what we really want to do. Or mean to do. The internet, dinner, gardening, talking to people, cleaning the house, errands.
Today for instance, suddenly it’s 5 pm and I haven’t set any words to paper til now. While writing my blog posts are fun, and this kind of writing serves a general writing purpose, blog posts not what I’ve been meaning to do. Working on my novel? Yes. Or the play that’s banging around my mind.
If I mean to do this, intend to walk through that door, then I need to take the first steps. My days cannot just the chores in them. I know some of my most admired authors rose early so they could write before their kids work up (Ursula Le Guinn), or wrote everyday even if it was just a list of observations (William Stafford), a piece of advice I have heard echoed by pretty much every writer I’ve ever heard speak or write on this topic. And the nut of the theme….do it early, do it always. Just do it. Sharpen your pencils the night before. Wake up with a word and write it down. Write as though your life depends on it.
Steppin over to Style Crone for Hat Attack