I missed my writing yesterday. Actually, I honestly didn’t miss it. I enjoyed not writing. I’m beginning to think that this Every Single Day thing might not be the best idea. (But still, Seth does it, so it must be good…) But I broke that good-old commitment to doing something every single day. Yet, I wonder if maybe there’s value in a break, or if it’s just a case of this book momentarily falling into the difficult pile?
The only thing I’m certain about at the moment is my uncertainty.
Oddly, I seem to be looking forward to posting these daily blogs more than writing the book. I suspect the real reason for that is the instant gratification factor; each blog is written, reviewed, edited, published, and completed, in a single half-hour block. Compare this to the reality of writing a 60-70,000 word non-fiction memoir, which must be brain-dumped out onto a page, edited, re-arranged, refined, edited, tweaked, massaged, edited, and coerced into being, all before the actual publication takes place.
It’s also absolutely because my writing sessions aren’t beginning until around 9:30pm lately, meaning I am far less focussed, far less energetic, and simply ready for bed. I must begin writing earlier in the day to get my best self onto the page, and to maintain the joy and the enthusiasm.
But, what is this blog, if not a factual account of the process I’m going through while writing my book? I’m seeing if things work, pulling them apart, and then re-assembling in a different order to see if they work better. I have no answers, only ideas. The ideas are the key, and if I’m not excited about the ideas, why would you be, my dear reader?
I need to start earlier. I’m off to bed, and I’ll do my best to write in the morning when I’m fresher.