Writing it down

Previously, my epiphanies have been the type that you grin like a madman at and marvel at it’s simplicity and connectivity. My “Rose to Ash” moment was my first “call to action” epiphany.

The next day, I was noodling over some drabble in my head and I realized: “I need to write this down!” So I headed to the computer and pounded away. It sure took much longer that way; and the results were not particularly noteworthy. I pushed that thought out of the way and focused on the point – I had written down what had previously, in many incarnations, been in my head. I saved it and went on about my day.

The day after that I continued the work on my office, reducing it a tad further. I did very little writing in my head, and none outside of it. I pushed that thought away when it visited me at the end of the day while I settled in to sleep and focused on the work I had accomplished to further prepare my space.

I rose to go biking. On the trail, fueled by oxygen and music, I wrote in my head. After the ride I repaired to my favorite refueling station where the most excellent Tea can be acquired. This time however, in that space between placing your order and the arrival of the food, I pulled out a notebook. There in the Cafe, before patrons and staff, I wrote down what I had been thinking about on the trail. When the food arrived, I put the notebook away and pulled out one of my books on how Writers organize their life and got to reading. At home, I looked over the fruits of my labor. One small group of notes and lines on a page. More page than pen. I pushed that thought away and focused on how to maximize my Cafe time.

I could go on, but by now I’m sure you see where I’m headed. This is the work. It doesn’t happen overnight. I wanted to belittle my efforts and mock my goals. Now that I saw myself as a writer, I’d be damned if I thought of a single thing that, once out of my head and on paper, didn’t appear to be the most indulgent garbage ever. I refused to care. “Monkeys at typewriters”, I’d say to myself. Keep hammering the keys, or clutching the pen; just don’t stop and don’t measure yourself against others. Instead think about what you’ve done today that you didn’t do yesterday and plan ahead to match or exceed it the next day.

This is the work: writing it down. It’s not easy. It’s messy. Embarrassing. Time consuming. I think of something to write at the oddest times. After the third time I had to heave myself out of bed at night because I’d gotten to the point that I couldn’t avoid writing it down, even if I knew it was pointless, I went to bed with the notebook on my table and moved a pen there just for that purpose. The pages began to be more pen then page.

You’ve done your prep work. You’ve gotten your game face on. You eat, drink and breath the writing craft. If you have pages in your head, this is where it starts.


About wickedpen

Writer - Fantasy Lit / Creating my world, one day at a time / wickedpen.net

Posted on July 12, 2011, in discovery, writer, writing. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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