If I love writing so much, why the hell is it that it takes me forever to get motivated enough to actually sit down and do it? Yesterday I procrastinated until nearly 10pm. Then I wrote until 12:30am. I got a scene done, but my brain kept saying “What about this part? What about that? You should add this!” I took some allergy medicine and finally got to sleep at around 2am. I slept in.
Now it’s nearly 2pm and I have a sink full of dishes, errands to do, the dog to let out, and the afternoon is half gone.
And still I haven’t sat down to get any writing done.
But the work I got done last night was encouraging. I didn’t want to stop. I know that once I get some momentum, it goes like this, but there are so many factors that are distracting. Just one little thing can lock me up sometimes too. A phonecall I have to make. An appointment that is hours off, yet somehow I have to fixate on it, rather than just working around it. In a way I blame working in the office where I was for 13 years. That was always the general idea. If someone had a meeting at 11, they generally just screwed around all morning until the meeting. Then it was lunch. Then they got back late, and whatdaya know!? Look at the time! 3pm, can’t start that project until tomorrow…
Such a rotten habit to break.
I know I always go on and on about Steven Pressfield’s philosophy of Resistance in any creative endeavor. I just think it’s brilliant and explains a lot. One of the things he says is the greater the Resistance, the more important the project is to us. And the closer we get to the end, the harder that Resistance is going to push back.
Lately I’ve been feeling a lot of pushback. And as I get into the shorter rows, it’s almost scary to think, “What happens when I’m done?” Well, editing, for one. But this book won’t be occupying such a big place in my headspace for another. I already have the next idea germinating in my head, and it has been hard to not start working on that. In a weird way, it will be a cleaner book. A better outline, formula, and approach. I’ll miss this book when the time comes. But as it stands, it’s already too long. And since it is being told in present time, the hardest leap to make will be when I jump ahead five, six, seven years.
What will the world look like?
And there are other concerns about the book too. Right now, things just feel right. I’m going to let the dog out now and see if I can’t make the keys go clickety-clack.
Wendigo Mountain 