I have been intrigued by The Guardian’s series of articles in which well-known writers explore where and when they write. Some have been reassuring – the prevarication, the sidelining, the excuse of what else needs to be done. I particularly enjoyed Sebastian Barry thinking that ‘having something else to do other than writing … creates that desk hunger’. How true! I can walk around believing that if only I could sit down at my computer, or notebook, all would be well, the pull of the narrative.
But I know, we all know, that the only way to achieve a script is to settle in and write. At the time it may seem like rubbish that I’m writing, but it’s words on ‘paper’ which can be revised. All the stuff in my head, those ideas that float in an out, at times seeming solid gold, and at others mere dross, can only be judged and possibly give pleasure, if I put in the hours.
I also welcomed Barry’s observation that ‘eventually a first line is sequestered from the heavens’.
So I have to find a better method, a new routine. If I write it here perhaps I will really achieve that different timetable. Away from the ‘I write in the evening when all chores done’ way. I’m retired, well, almost, so there is no reason to put this off. I believe, and I know for me, regularity is essential. more gets done. I’m happiest when my days are mapped out. I struggle with an interruption, though feel pleased when I manage to deviate, be flexible.
Perhaps a promise to have viewed last night’s work before breakfast is a good possibility. The tug will then be stronger to carry on even when the sun shines and those weeds, that pruning, all call for attention.
Ah, ha! Another problem looms. Do I carry on with the new novel? Attempt that short story that’s buzzing around in my head? Or take time to send off to sort out a submission to a competition?
Hang it! I’m off to the garden, just for a bit. Out there my head may clear and that nagging need will send me back in. I’ll let you know later.