I have never been the most organized of writers, despite some, at times, desperate attempts to become one. I have never hid that from those of you who read this blog either. But recently my life has gone so much into overdrive (plus the fact that I somehow caught Michelle’s cold from across the Atlantic) that writing is downright frazzled.
I have always coped with my lack of organization by allowing myself to just write a single page on my work in progress sometime during the day. There was always paper and a pen available somewhere. That used to work.
Lately though, I have lost the page before I input it into the computer, can’t remember what the heck I wrote before or just plain can’t find a block of time to write that page before I crash onto the bed at night so I can get up at 5:15 and start all over again.
This does not make me an easy woman to live with, and although I have often commented that my husband is a very patient man, there is a limit to …well, everything including the man’s patience.
Something has to give and it can’t be work, my kids, my husband or, for that matter, my house or my garden. The obvious conclusion here is that the writing is what has to change.
So…I’m doing it and I’ll try to let you know how it works. The plan is simple. I will take advantage of the small stolen moments of the day to write…whatever. I am going to accept that there is no block of time to give to this right now, but I will work on it on the odd moments I get. It may not be WIP. It almost definitely will not be in order, but then that is nothing new to me. I’ve always worked on whatever scene presented itself to me. It probably will not amount to a page but even if it is only a few lines that I manage to scribble down as I’m eating my Wheaties in the A.M., or a couple of thoughts that I manage to record on my MP3 as I’m driving to work, it will do. Instead of beating myself up for not getting as much done, I’m just going to do whatever I can.
The only thing that won’t do, is me making excuses to myself anymore. I don’t have the time I used to have. So what? I can feel sorry for myself or I can adapt. I’m an intelligent human being. I’m adapting.
But thanks to Michelle, I am going to buy a new (small enough to fit in my purse) notebook. I don’t want to lose any more pages.