do it anyway
not sure if this is a rule, yet, or not, but it might be.
as mentioned, last week wasn’t a great week for my writing. i complained previously about the lack of quality, the perception that nothing was any good, the supposed interference of an unexpected and irrelevant cast of bit characters, and so on. i even said it had become so hard that i pushed it aside to work on an entirely different short story which seemed to go far more smoothly.*
in short, i complained a lot, and i wrote very little.
this weekend was no exception. it was, however, wonderfully full of garden/yard work, lovely food, a visit with my parents, a fun bike to the Old Port Festival, dog walks, music practicing, and generally fabulous time spent with my wife.
however, i had little expectation of better productivity today, especially as i had the computer job, today. and yet…
i’ve just finished several hours of writing for HHNF this morning, and i really really like it. i know the the two are not genuinely connected, but while waiting for an assignment from the computer place, i forced myself to go up above the garage and just write until they called. again, no great expectations, but i was in a bit of downtime while i waited, anyway, so what the heck. it was at least a step in the right direction to do that instead of play City of Heroes again.
well, the phone didn’t ring. there’s no clock in the garage room, either, so when i came up for breath the first time, after a totally new and decidedly – ahem – risque** first chapter, i discovered i was writing again. i was more than a little surprise, both at the fact that i was writing again and at the content i’d written. first chapter, no less!
when i checked in at the office, they didn’t have anything right away, but said they’d call when they did. normally, this isn’t great, because no assignment means no pay, but given what last week was like and the rollercoaster (mainly a corkscrew of descent) i’d put myself on regarding my ability and, particulary, my viability, i’m okay with losing the time.
because i’m back to doing what i love, and loving what i do. was it the weekend break at home in our own space that helped put me back together? was it the simple impetus of finally telling myself to get over it? was it something else entirely? i’m not exactly sure, but right now i’m not looking that gift horse in the mouth.
* for the record, The Aesthetician suffered similar setbacks in later attempts, so i’ve put it back on hold.
** mind you, this is an entirely subjective statement. i doubt it would merit the statement from others, particularly with experience reading in the more, um, aggressive titles of the genre, but it marks a distinctly new direction, for me. also, of course, it bears remembering that this is the first chapter of a first draft.