I have three blog drafts sitting around, and, admittedly, some are no more than a great title and a few words, but some are almost done. I look at them and say ‘someday I’ll finish that thought’. I have about thirty unfinished ‘thoughts’ in the form of novel ideas with bits and pieces of research or even a first chapter all filed away on my laptop. Two completed manuscripts waiting for revision, one half of a fantasy duology left to write, and a partridge in a pear tree…. The point is life can be so distracting, especially with a new job and a needs-bouncy-bouncy-all-the-time baby boy, that I forget I’m a writer. I NEED to write. It’s an ache in my blood and bones that turns to discontent and then outright depression if ignored.
And when I write? I soar. I feel light and free and satisfied. Like this is what I was meant to do.
Not, I’ve found, the writing for work that requires I abide by the ‘understated’ tone of the organisation and get three different approvals for every paragraph posted on the website. I need real writing. The kind that streams from the movie in your head, that sings with emotion, vibrates with your soul. I need to work on my damn book. It’s 4:30 am–I’ve been up since a 3:30 baby feed–but it’s taken me this long to psych up for a blog post. Will I even open my manuscript before the baby wakes for the day or I decide to steal a few more minutes sleep? Why do I delay?
Because I need it too much. It’s too important. And what happens if I finish that novel, finish those revisions, finish those queries and actually get what I want? What happens after happily ever after? ‘Well,’ I tell my idiot inner procrastinator, ‘there will be more books you can write, book promotion to deal with, a whole host of crap you can’t even dream of, basically a whole new world to explore. Get on with it.’
So, I’m signing off to get on with it. I hope you all find the will get on with it too. Happy writing!
Thanks for reading! More posts on books, film, and writing can be found on my website at Lorel Clayton Author.