Are you a writer? It’s ok if you haven’t admitted to yourself that you are yet. And it’s perfectly fine and normal if you haven’t yet admitted it to anyone else! In fact, I’d be surprised to hear if you do go about proclaiming your self-prescribed title to everyone you meet. It’s taken me literally three decades to be comfortable calling myself one. Hold it, did I just say I was comfortable with it? Hmm, tolerant might be a more accurate feeling.
Why now? What’s the secret to at least coming to terms, internally, that you are a writer? Well, publishing helps. More so, constantly writing can give you a major leg up in the acceptance arena.
What Does “Always Writing” Mean?
Does the term “always writing” mean you should be producing words and stories every minute of every hour of every day for the rest of your life? Yes, yes it does. Every second, too. So get on that.
I’m kidding, I think. Writers need to sleep just like everyone else. Guess what though, you can dream up new stories, even when your brain is recharging in its stasis state. So you’re not off the hook there.
How about when you’re living your super fulfilling life away from your computer? What’s that? You’re too preoccupied when your jet ski is tearing across Lake Privilege to come up with a sub-plot that drives character development? Too bad! Buck up and multitask! I mean, sure, don’t hit the dock going 80 mph (how fast do those things go? Probably not 80), but spare at least a brain cell or two for the color of your protagonist’s childhood home. It was gold, right?
How To Write Gold When You’re Not Writing
I get it, man (gender neutral “man”), you’ve got other things going on. Don’t we all? You’re probably saying to yourself, “But but but, what about my family?” And to that, I can honestly only say… Leave them. They’re holding you back. And your 8-year-old is failing hard at that coal mining job you got her. I heard from the boss man your daughter’s been slacking. Down there in the mine, with their faces caked in soot, the other workers call your daughter “Canary.” It is not a term of respect.
Ok, easy chief, understand satire. You don’t have to leave your family to enable you to write. You just have to find your moments and make the best of them.
Take me for example, please.
That’s not how that joke goes and you aren’t funny.
Sheesh! Tough crowd. Well take me for example, anyway. As I write these words, I’m lying on my back in my 4 year old’s bed. She’s sitting next to me and watching Team Umizoomi (don’t bother, it’s not for you) before she goes to sleep for the night. She’ll be off to la la land (terrible movie, come at me) soon. There, she will dream of a compelling backstory for her urban fantasy’s villain. Ha! I’m training her young.
She talks (and talks and talks til she tires herself) and I listen and respond where I can get a word in, and … hey! She just gave me an unexpected kiss. Boo yah. Parenting for the win!
Write Different Things
OK, but you’re only writing a silly bloggy that no one will ever even read. You’re not even putting serious thought into it.
First, ouch. And two, I could probably be plotting out some scene in my head while we lie here. But guess what? This here bloggy is the particular writing I wanted to do right now. Are you challenging me to plot my work-in-progress in this moment? Very well.
Plotting… please stand by…
Holy hell that actually worked! I’m not even kidding, you guys. I took your gauntlet and I hoisted it up to shoulder height and then launched it into the stratosphere because the circumsphere was too circumspect a sphere to reach with these mortal muscles.
But seriously, thank you. I just had the beginnings of a fix for a particular plot point in my current draft of my new novel. And omigosh its a good fix! I need to go write it down before I forget…
Plot point chartered out and done! Wow that felt good.
How To Stay In The Moment
Which moment do you mean? The one where you’re writing or the one where you’re living? Either way, the answer is the same — we all manage it. We all constantly have two or three balls in the air once. Look at what you’re doing right now. You’re reading this and cultivating asparagus. Nice crop, by the way. Sure you can go back and forth from your phone to your garden, but something’s gotta give.
I think you just disproved your point.
All right. You got me. No matter how good your intentions may be, sometimes multitasking gives short shrift to both concentrations. My daughter just asked me a question and I had to say “what?” twice, put the phone down, and be in the moment. And it’s a good thing I did, too, because she had a super important question about butterflies. She asked if, when she becomes a butterfly someday, would I catch her when she flies by me.
I mean, yeah baby, of course.
So that moment was all the moments in the world rolled into one. And I guess I wasn’t writing just then. Oh, but I was! Because I stored it in my back pocket and popped it up right here! That’s what I’m talking about. Always writing. Always thinking about writing. It’s the same thing. If you’re a writer, you’re always writing, even when you aren’t. Got it? Am I making sense yet? Do you love yourself sufficiently? Then good, my job is done. I can go peacefully into this good night and dream of next week’s bloggys.
Next Week On The Bloggy
Oh I dunno, I’ll probably whip out some junk about synonyms or words that are similar to each other or something completely different than its opposite meaning.
Is fiction still stranger than truth?
Yes, dearie. ’Tis.