So, you have a really bad day and when it’s all over (well, sort of over), you make it home and want to forget about life and the world and drown your sorrows. Yeah, that was my awful, terrible day. It was all tied to car troubles, so I’m sure you can all relate. After the fact all I wanted to do was to sit in front of the TV, or maybe just go straight to bed. Basically, disengage my brain. Yeah, who needs the world! Easier to drop-out.
Oh, wait, I joined the Monthly Writing Challenge for just this reason. Accountability.
We writers are a creative lot and that creativity can reach its zenith when there’s the opportunity to create excuses. I deserved an evening wallowing in the realm of nothingness. Didn’t I?
But then there’s that novel I’m working on and almost two dozen short stories needing attention and the three short stories I’ve outlined for me to work on this month. Oh, and how wonderful, I’ve a blog post due tomorrow, too. Forgot about that in the midst of banging my forehead against the steering wheel in frustration.
Then again, after examining my life I realized that part of being a writer is having writerly obligations. Imagine that. Part of those obligations (okay, a big part), besides the learning and the reading, is writing. Not just writing when the moment is perfect—anyone can do that—but writing when it’s hard. Writing when there’s pain, when there are worries, and when there are other temptations. And when aren’t there other temptations?
Once home in the early evening, and after lamenting the mechanic I lost when I moved, and then after indulging in the first meal I’d had since early morning, I made my way to the computer and edited for 2.5 hours. Funny how willpower and responsibility work out in the end. Afterwards, I felt better than I had all day. I was elevated further after running into online support. The writing community is made up of some fantastic people from around the globe.
So, here it is after midnight and I’m writing this blog post, but it has a decidedly more positive tone than I’d have expected six hours ago. Yeah, this is it. This is what a writer’s life is all about. Stuff happens and sometimes it’s bad stuff and you keep writing. Maybe it isn’t as much as you’d planned while drinking that morning coffee, but you tackle what you can and at the end of the day you can say, yeah!. The day was a bad one and there was adversity and you moved forward anyway.
If only there’d been chocolate in the apartment…