I make an effort to write everyday, or failing that, to work on the book every, single day. I need to do that because I write complicated books, and writing is no longer a fluid activity for me.
I’m not kidding. The first time I write a scene most of the sentences read very Dick and Jane. As in, “Dick and Jane went up the hill.” Simple sentence structures, one layer thick. And I don’t like simple or flat, so I stew over scenes and characters until I really understand them. This call for notes, and charts, and walks, and shooting elastic bands at the monitor.
Cut to last Sunday. My son had slept over, and was fooling around on the piano. I’d claimed the dining room table and had spread my papers from one end to the other as I puzzled over the time line.
I could have spent all day there–like I had spent Saturday.
But you what? Sometime you have to know when to call it a day. My iPod lay beside my coffee mug. I picked it up and hit record. The video below features my son, JB, playing the introduction to one of the songs he’s written. It’s short, about half a minute long, and is the first time I tried to make a video. *cough* Turns out you’re supposed to hold your iPod horizontally, not vertically. Who knew?
Anyhow, somewhere in the midpoint of the walk, I made the decision that I was going to play on Sunday, too. And so we did. We went for lunch at a local Korean place, we came home and rented “The Hunger Games.” Didn’t catch most of the first half hour of it, because we talked. About silly stuff, like who’d we cast as Hedi and Trowbridge.
But it recharged me. The next day I wrote like the wind. And I figured something out. I need my family. Being with them fills me up. *grin* Which is I wrestled a promise out of my daughter last night. She’s going to go tramping through Creemore with me in a few weekends. I told her to bring boots.