Old & Crotchedy
I'd like to think I'm neither of those things. Nonetheless, as I've had to rely more on concentration vs. inspiriation in my writing, I'm afraid I'm slowly going down the OC road - and I don't mean Orange County!
A funny thing happens to you when you go from "dreaming" about becoming a writer to being a professional writer - inspiration becomes one of those gauzy, flowery words used primarily to help non-writers understand where your ideas come from. Even though, in truth, if I only wrote when inspired I doubt very seriously I'd be on book 4 in my series.
I'm being dead honest here.
Do I still find inspiration around me that injects itself into my fiction?
You betcha.
Can I rely on that inspiration to fuel writing 5 or 7 days a week?
Hells no.
My first two books were fueled entirely by inspiration and a creative high that can only be rivaled, I imagine, by drug use. But I wrote them under very different circumstances:
* I was writing full-time (this is HUGE)
* I only had one child
* Did I mention I was writing full-time and only had one child?
Now, with an FTJ, a three year old, a nearly thirteen year old and a cluttered mind that sometimes forgets the names of my children, inspiration comes and goes. And more often than not, comes at a time when I'm simply not able to truly capture it.
Despite swimming in notebooks - I have about four of them in my car, one at the office and two in my home office - to ensure I can capture those inspired scenes and dialogue, truth is, my mind is usually so cluttered with other stuff, inspiration has to stand in line to get a meeting with me.
All of this has led to me being a bit crotchedy. Here's a typical example why...
It's mid-day. The house has finally reached a modicum of peace. The children are properly fed and watered. I say to myself, Self, go on up and get some writing done.
Because, honestly, some days the late nights and early mornings are just too hard.
The second I sit down in my office and get the file opened is when the house explodes into total chaos - battling siblings, shouting TV commercials, an inquiring spouse, and loud thumps from underneath my office that sounds like a demolition crew.
I simply can't work through that, anymore.
"Anymore" is probably giving me too much credit. It implies, I once was capable. Since I wrote the first two books under such different circumstances, I'll never know if my creative high would have helped me block these sounds out or not.
I've had a few creative highs since FTJ and Princess Bea came into the picture - but it's usually during those late nights and early mornings that are now solidly kicking my arse.
Because my game plan is to always stay young of mind, I refuse to be OC.
So, I'm getting these - noise reduction headphones. Aren't they pretty?
A funny thing happens to you when you go from "dreaming" about becoming a writer to being a professional writer - inspiration becomes one of those gauzy, flowery words used primarily to help non-writers understand where your ideas come from. Even though, in truth, if I only wrote when inspired I doubt very seriously I'd be on book 4 in my series.
I'm being dead honest here.
Do I still find inspiration around me that injects itself into my fiction?
You betcha.
Can I rely on that inspiration to fuel writing 5 or 7 days a week?
Hells no.
My first two books were fueled entirely by inspiration and a creative high that can only be rivaled, I imagine, by drug use. But I wrote them under very different circumstances:
* I was writing full-time (this is HUGE)
* I only had one child
* Did I mention I was writing full-time and only had one child?
Now, with an FTJ, a three year old, a nearly thirteen year old and a cluttered mind that sometimes forgets the names of my children, inspiration comes and goes. And more often than not, comes at a time when I'm simply not able to truly capture it.
Despite swimming in notebooks - I have about four of them in my car, one at the office and two in my home office - to ensure I can capture those inspired scenes and dialogue, truth is, my mind is usually so cluttered with other stuff, inspiration has to stand in line to get a meeting with me.
All of this has led to me being a bit crotchedy. Here's a typical example why...
It's mid-day. The house has finally reached a modicum of peace. The children are properly fed and watered. I say to myself, Self, go on up and get some writing done.
Because, honestly, some days the late nights and early mornings are just too hard.
The second I sit down in my office and get the file opened is when the house explodes into total chaos - battling siblings, shouting TV commercials, an inquiring spouse, and loud thumps from underneath my office that sounds like a demolition crew.
I simply can't work through that, anymore.
"Anymore" is probably giving me too much credit. It implies, I once was capable. Since I wrote the first two books under such different circumstances, I'll never know if my creative high would have helped me block these sounds out or not.
I've had a few creative highs since FTJ and Princess Bea came into the picture - but it's usually during those late nights and early mornings that are now solidly kicking my arse.
Because my game plan is to always stay young of mind, I refuse to be OC.
So, I'm getting these - noise reduction headphones. Aren't they pretty?
posted by Paula at 1:09 PM
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