She never wasted time on irony. Except when she did.
Like when her health declined in middle age to the point she believed she would never be the same again. Being defeated by illness will do that to a person.
So there she was again using that word, as if she could ignore how ‘never’ seemed to bubble to the surface of her existence as ‘maybe’ time and time again. As if her declarations of ‘never’ could be etched in glossy granite, scarring deeper with each utterance. As if she knew the most about her life and could direct its path by casting a word out into the universe.
At least she might find solace in being wrong. Because irony never wasted time on her, either. It played her swiftly and with ruthless honesty.
Someday, she might accept that within the penumbra of ‘never,’ possibility can shine through.
Day two hundred ninety-four of my 365 Day Writing Project.
I waited all day. I waited over fourteen hours, actually. For over fourteen hours, off and on, I thought about writing. Distracted, busy, obligated to fulfill a long list of responsibilities, I had to wait. I was eager to sit down and write today, which is pretty much the norm for me. But it was another Monday I had to go to work when all I wanted to do was stay home and write.
Hour after hour, I couldn’t take my mind away. When I could – when I wasn’t absorbed in one of my legal matters or taking care of my kids or doing yard work with my husband – or maybe even when I was doing those things, I was thinking about writing. Earlier today I described it on Twitter like this:
If I can’t be writing, at least I can allow my mind to tumble freely through the halls of the story. #amwriting#writerslife
And that is what it feels like. It’s like my mind is tumbling around ideas, words, story line and characters, with no particular sense factored in. That’s my imagination, like a load of dirty laundry in a front-loading machine; it’s a busy mess in there. So, then what? What does one do with all of those active thoughts about a story? One writes.
I wrote down some of my tumbling thoughts tonight before they vanished. Now, they reside in my outline. Boom.
Day one hundred seventy-six of my 365 Day Writing Project.
I had no idea what I was going to write about tonight. Well, I knew where I left off in the story last night so obviously I had some idea, but I didn’t know where to go with it. Not knowing what to write can put a real damper on the desire to write. It makes me want to avoid my laptop.
My laptop sat on my stand-up desk, waiting, mocking me as I walked by. I tried to ignore it. I knew I needed to go over there and do my thing like I do every night, but I kept procrastinating. I hoped for inspiration, for an idea to pop into my head. Nothing happened. The pull to go to bed and wait for inspiration another day was overwhelming. But I forced myself to stand in front of my laptop. I MADE. MYSELF. WRITE. And guess what? Within a few minutes, ideas emerged and the story was flowing. I was writing as if I had known what to write all along.
This is the kind of lesson I learn from writing every day, and it is invaluable. Make it happen. Make yourself write.
While I was writing tonight (okay, I had only written one paragraph and was kind of stuck) I nodded off for a bit. Maybe ten minutes. When I woke, I suddenly had a great idea for the story. Just like that, I was off like a shot and steadily wrote another 450 words. I probably could have continued to write more but I really need to get some sleep. And I’m pleased with what I got done.
I once read somewhere that great ideas come about when the mind is at rest. Sleep can spark creativity. It certainly seemed true for me tonight, even if it was a short power nap and a short session of writing. I think I’ll try it more often.