The longer I write, the more I come to realize that writing is like running a marathon in a lot of ways. I've heard a lot of analogies about writing, including that writing is like giving birth (you carry your book for a long time and eventually, it pops out fully formed and wonderful--Ha!). I can see some similarities in that analogy, but really, giving birth happens whether or not you are ready, whether or not you've consciously formed your baby.
Books do not. They require a lot of work. I find that I am like a sprinter when I write. I go in spurts. I have moment of utter inspiration and I write pages and pages. And then I have blocks as I am sure most other writer's do too. The trick, I think, is to transform yourself into a marathon runner if at all possible. To form an endurance, which is what I am currently working on as I sit here with my laptop, surrounded by paper and pencil crayons that my 2.5 year old has chaotically scattered everywhere.
Lovingly nicknamed "the Raptor" from birth--due to his odd, high-screeched chirping noises--which let me tell you, have not disappeared over the years, this child is chaos incarnate. And he puts dents in my writing schedule, right along with his little sister (14 months), lovingly nicknamed the mini T-rex, after her mother, due to our short arms. Apparently... Don't ask.
The point is, the schedule is not easy to keep to, regardless of what your commitments are. I am in the middle of an all-consuming YA novel that is keeping me up at night, filling my waking thoughts and slipping into my dreams. The kind of story that just needs to be told. But things at the Dino-Farm do not make it easy. Maybe having somewhere to air my thoughts will help... but be prepared for much craziness should you choose to follow along. And hopefully some amusement.
Think of me like a terrible girlfriend: I can't promise to always be around--returning phone calls and remembering our dates (read: consistent), I can't promise to write long, eloquent love letters (read: profound articulate posts) or even that I won't be a split-personality crazy person (read: emotional rollercoaster). Now, if I haven't lost you yet, what I can promise (hopefully), is to entertain you with some of the details of my everyday process as I write. That in between the craziness, the sorrow and the triumph that is a writer's existence, you will find glimpses of humor and inspiration.
I invite you to run the marathon with me--or just cheer me along from the sidelines. Or even throw popcorn at me. Just no lego. Those damned things are sharp, especially when you step on them, and usually sticky since the Raptor's favorite pastime is spitting juice from the sippy cup into them. Fun times.
Ah yes, life at the dino farm. Funny story about that. There was a game back in middle school called dinopark tycoon where you could buy dino eggs, hatch them, feed them...and build walls to make sure they stayed where you put them. Their biggest problem was making sure the t-rex never got out and mauled someone.
ReplyDeleteTwo and a half years after the birth of our raptor, I laugh as I realize that the dino park had the easier deal. Our t-rex and raptor are far more creative, headstrong, and at times, destructive.
I look forward to hopping on the rollercoaster with you and running the marathon of life alongside you. It is our adventure to share through its twists and turns, and its ups and downs. I promise to be with you every step of the way (though throwing popcorn at you is a still a go ahead...way too much fun!).
*sniff* you guys make me wanna cry! ;) I miss your dino-farm, and no, I will NOT keep my hands inside the vehicle at all times.. can't wait to get in those funky jeeps and drive through, and only a little cuz I'll be imagining Jeff Goldblum beside me.
ReplyDeleteI'm all in for the rollercoaster, but I'll let Jon take the marathon... I'd rather drive through life personally, something inhuman about all that physical activity ;)
Bring on the adventures!