Paula

Tuesday, June 09, 2009

If I were...

A musician, would you expect me to answer the phone while I'm in the booth recording?

An artist, would you burst into my studio expecting me to stop mid-stroke to chat?

An actress, would you demand the cameras stop rolling so I could help you with your problem?

Doubtful. Yet, because I'm a writer, it seems the world around me thinks that it's okay to interrupt.

If this phenomena were germane only to me, I'd brush it off as my family and friends not getting the level of solitude and concentration I need to create. But it's an illness that afflicts many of my author friends.

What is it about writing that people take it so lightly as an art? Is it because sitting at the computer looks like any other type of work or play? Would I really look this focused playing Solitaire?

In order for me to write well, there's a level of detachment I've got to achieve. Not the loveliest word, for sure. But exactly what I meant. When I write, I detach myself from this world and float into the world I'm creating.

Maybe it seems pretentious to non-writers. Or maybe they think it's easy to fall in and out of the haze. For me, it's not and it's been awhile since I've truly given into the tug of detachment.

I'm enjoying the 500 Word Challenge. Got in over 5,000 words, last week.

The Challenge forces me to visit my manuscript, daily. But I've yet to reach that level where I block out everything - hunger, thirst, fatigue, and my family - to stay in that zone. I want to, but since I'm not a musician, artist or actress, walking into my office, apparently, is an invitation to the world to interrupt. I mean, somehow even people NOT in my house seem to know when I'm writing because that's when they call.

Not the ten hours before when I was sitting on my duff. Only when I step foot into the office to write.

Sounds like a writing retreat is in order.

Hmm...

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