18 January

When Writer Lost is the Best Place to Be...


You wake up.

You open your eyes.

Your mind sparks, remembering all the writing you did NOT do yesterday... and the day before, and the day before that.

Your incentive to get out of bed — the literary loser you think you are — is non-existent.

You think to yourself, Even if I start writing today, I'm so far behind, and I'm so demoralized, my words will be crap anyway, as you throw the duvet over your head and wish a tree trunk would pummel your brains and free you from this living literary misery.

Sound familiar, peeps?

Guess what? You've hit the very bottom as an artist! CONGRATULATIONS!!! WHOO HOO!!!

Yes, this is the very best place to be as a writer. Why, you ask?

Because, no matter what scene you conjure, no matter what words you plunk onto the page, you can't damage your writer self anymore or fall any farther down than you already find your nervous exhausted butt. (Which is why I wrap Christmas gifts on the floor. Okay, a different topic for a different blog. Sorry...)

At your absolute worst IS THE BEST TIME to write! You don't owe anyone anything. Your demands are nil. Even if all you do is fill a page with the word "the" a thousand times over, think how great your typing speed has become, and you'll never misspell the word "the" ever again. See? Already two wins!

Okay, I'm being a bit factitious here...but you get my drift. 

Simply put, being at the bottom makes you failure-proof!

And guess what will happen when you do drag your pathetic carcass to the keyboard and hammer your peanut butter and jam sticky fingers onto those keys...

Characters birth — they open their eyes, and darned if they don't start yapping. I mean, Every. Damn Time. You can't shut them up! What is with that???

Locales pop — sea shores appear, stormy skies, too. A bobbing ship springs as a mirage on a foggy sea with a sailor barfing overboard... (Okay, sorry, again...my imagination is feral. I've tried to reign it in so the neighbors stop talking about me. No luck...)

Actions abound — those characters grab stuff, play hop scotch with kiddies on a sidewalk, and drink strikingly stirred martinis with James Bond as the Casino in Nice...(Seriously, shit starts happening!)

All because you had NOTHING LEFT TO LOSE.

Rock Bottom can be one of the most wonderful places to be. 

Fear of falling, fear of failing, they don't exist anymore.

It's you and those keys and your wandering mind, and amid that triad, wondrous worlds breathe. They always have for you, and they always will. No matter how tangled your hair or if you have raccoon eyes from binge-watching Netflix instead of writing. (This may or may not be a self-portrait. If you ask me if it is, I will hit you with something hard and sharp.)

So, on days like this... 

  • Rent a car winch, and winch yourself out of bed.
  • Take a flea delousing shower. (Don't tell me you don't need a good delousing. You're a writer, after all. Of course, you have fleas!) Bonus: In that wildly wet world, you'll be bombarded by ideas aplenty. Trust me. Buy waterproof crayons to take notes on the tiles. Stop pointing and laughing at me. Just DOO EET!
  • Guzzle some coffee. Cold, hot, fresh, old, I don't care. Inject some caffeine, already!
  • Plunk yourself down at that desk.
  • And start typing...anything... NOW!

You'll be amazed by how damn good that prose shit actually lays out. No, really.

And as you amaze yourself with your conjurings, relish your time at the bottom., for you're too good to be there for long. I promise you.


P.S. While you're down there, could you hand me my pen? I dropped it the last time I was... never mind. ;-)

No comments: