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A novel concept
Apr. 27th, 2010 03:25 pmThose of you who have been reading this blog for a while are probably used to hearing me complain about my struggle to fit novel-writing into my already over-scheduled life.
I can't promise that those complaints will stop any time soon, but yesterday afternoon I did make a small stride toward addressing this issue.
When it came time for lunch I realized that the co-workers I usually eat with were either not in the office or too busy to step away from their desks. Normally when this happens I head down to my building's cafeteria with a book in hand, and spend the hour reading. Or if I'm craving variety, I'll venture out to one of the many places on or near Michigan Avenue.
I was feeling indecisive about which option I wanted to pursue, when suddenly an epiphany struck like a bolt of lightning. I could spend my hour eating and reading, sure. OR I could bring my food, regardless of where I got it, to my desk and use that time to continue my thesis revision.
I'd considered this idea in the past, but always came up with reasons to dismiss it.
Reasons like:
I'd get distracted by the Internet.
I'd resent not getting any time away from my computer during the workday.
I'd resent having to switch back to my obligatory tasks when lunch was over.
I'd really only have a measly 30 minutes to write, factoring in time for food retrieval.
This time, however, none of those reasons seemed valid. This time, I relished the prospect of adding a couple sentences, even only a couple of words, to my manuscript. Because even if that was painfully slow progress, it was still a helluva lot better than no progress at all.
And so I rushed downstairs, purchased a piece of broiled catfish, some steamed broccoli, and some mashed red potatoes from the hot food bar. I grabbed a bottle of Diet Coke from the cooler. I returned to my desk. I opened the word document I've been using as my master file. And. And.
And......
I stared down the three enemies that always surface whenever I'm about to assemble a string of words. Self-doubt. Anxiety. Indecision. They held me captive, Mexican-standoff style, for a solid minute before I could dive between their legs and give them the slip. As I was half-running, half-crawling to safety, I realized that I could outrun them, and while I was at it, do a little to advance the scene where I'd last left off.
So that's exactly what I did. And in doing so, I added some movement to a character interaction that's been stalled for the last couple days.
Maybe it seems silly, me making such a big deal out of spending my lunch break on less than a page of writing. But really, it's not the quantity I'm celebrating.
It's the shift in attitude.
The fact that I'm finding ways to steal novel time I wouldn't otherwise have. The fact that I can now see the value of making the most of those opportunities. The fact that I am finally willing to struggle and sacrifice for the sake of my art.
Honestly, I wish this shift would have come a lot sooner. But apparently it took three trips to Eureka before it was ready to stick. And now that it's finally here, I aim to milk it for all that it's worth.
I can't promise that those complaints will stop any time soon, but yesterday afternoon I did make a small stride toward addressing this issue.
When it came time for lunch I realized that the co-workers I usually eat with were either not in the office or too busy to step away from their desks. Normally when this happens I head down to my building's cafeteria with a book in hand, and spend the hour reading. Or if I'm craving variety, I'll venture out to one of the many places on or near Michigan Avenue.
I was feeling indecisive about which option I wanted to pursue, when suddenly an epiphany struck like a bolt of lightning. I could spend my hour eating and reading, sure. OR I could bring my food, regardless of where I got it, to my desk and use that time to continue my thesis revision.
I'd considered this idea in the past, but always came up with reasons to dismiss it.
Reasons like:
I'd get distracted by the Internet.
I'd resent not getting any time away from my computer during the workday.
I'd resent having to switch back to my obligatory tasks when lunch was over.
I'd really only have a measly 30 minutes to write, factoring in time for food retrieval.
This time, however, none of those reasons seemed valid. This time, I relished the prospect of adding a couple sentences, even only a couple of words, to my manuscript. Because even if that was painfully slow progress, it was still a helluva lot better than no progress at all.
And so I rushed downstairs, purchased a piece of broiled catfish, some steamed broccoli, and some mashed red potatoes from the hot food bar. I grabbed a bottle of Diet Coke from the cooler. I returned to my desk. I opened the word document I've been using as my master file. And. And.
And......
I stared down the three enemies that always surface whenever I'm about to assemble a string of words. Self-doubt. Anxiety. Indecision. They held me captive, Mexican-standoff style, for a solid minute before I could dive between their legs and give them the slip. As I was half-running, half-crawling to safety, I realized that I could outrun them, and while I was at it, do a little to advance the scene where I'd last left off.
So that's exactly what I did. And in doing so, I added some movement to a character interaction that's been stalled for the last couple days.
Maybe it seems silly, me making such a big deal out of spending my lunch break on less than a page of writing. But really, it's not the quantity I'm celebrating.
It's the shift in attitude.
The fact that I'm finding ways to steal novel time I wouldn't otherwise have. The fact that I can now see the value of making the most of those opportunities. The fact that I am finally willing to struggle and sacrifice for the sake of my art.
Honestly, I wish this shift would have come a lot sooner. But apparently it took three trips to Eureka before it was ready to stick. And now that it's finally here, I aim to milk it for all that it's worth.
