If you’ve been following along, you know that I had grand plans to write a new, dark, witchy, Ireland inspired book. And you also know that a natural disaster kind of derailed those plans for a while. Well, we’re finally, finally getting back to normal around here. Schedules are familiar, husband’s clients are getting back on track, things still feel a little like Bambi learning to walk, but we’re getting there.
And I’ve had enough time away from writing to feel refreshed and like I should be ready to get back at it. My editor has Blackbird, which I’ll have back soon, but going over edits and writing something new can be done; I’ve done it. It’s nice to have two totally different projects like that to work on so you can take a break from one to the other and not overload yourself.
So naturally I got to work. Cleaning. First I dug out every towel and sheet and blanket that we had in our linen closet, refolded (because they definitely went into that closet folded but then obviously gremlins came along and had a party in there) and organized each category into new stacks and put it together like a perfect puzzle.
Oh how I wish I’d taken a before picture so you could know what an amazing accomplishment this truly is.
We live in a little 1920’s cottage, so the storage options here are almost null. See this? This is a high cabinet that counts as a linen closet, but you can see it only has two shelves. But somehow being three feet deep makes up for the lack of shelves? I dunno. But look! I can see and reach everything!
Okay. So that was pretty therapeutic, but now it was time to get back to that new idea.
So I closed the cabinet door and and turned away from it and the former mess (after taking a photo
to brag for posterity), and walked the three feet to the other cabinet.
One thing you don’t know about me, unless you follow along on the Twitter, is that I have this strange, almost hoarder obsession with boxes and bags. Oh, how I love a good box or gift bag. If something is delivered in a small to medium box, I will save said box. If someone gives me something in a gift bag, I keep that bag. And the smaller, more varying size of box, the better. Because in my mind, I might need it. Certainly come the holidays I will. And why throw it away if I might need it? Because then I’ll just have to buy a box or bag to wrap it in and that’s just wasteful. Maybe it’s the poor kid in me. I dunno.
But because of this, our other cabinet, which we use for miscellany storage, had become my gift box and bag storage, along with the other random things you need to keep but have no where to keep them. This cabinet had become insane. You couldn’t find anything in there. You couldn’t even use the gift bags because they were becoming bent and creased.
Obviously, this couldn’t wait. How could I focus on writing with this behemoth sitting so close to me, weighing on me, looming over me?
I couldn’t. So I attacked it too. I pulled every box and bag out and realized I’d kept boxes of things in case I needed to put them back in their original packaging for… I don’t know. To return them five years later? In case we moved and these things needed their own special boxes? I’d also discovered this had become the place for bad gifts, like, we couldn’t throw them out, but where else to put them? BAH!
Everything came out. My hallway was full. And by the time I separated the good, the keeps, from the bad our recycling trash can (which is bigger than our regular trash can) was full and it was empty when I started. I’d gone full scorched earth in my determination to throw it all out and only keep a very select few boxes and only the gift bags that weren’t creased. Now, I can see and reach everything in here. Again, you don’t get what a difference this is from where it started. That Jenga game? Totally forgot we had that because you couldn’t find it in there before.
Phew. Okay. Now I could write, surely.
Of course, how anyone could be expected to write when their office is a shambles, I have no idea! I mean, what even happened here?
Of course I know what happened. Christmas decorations haven’t made it out to the shed yet. Taxes had to be prepped. This is where the bills are paid. This is where accounting is done. This is where every damn piece of paper and receipt gets brought no matter what!
Eep. Sorry about that. Anyway. Obviously, I had to fix this before I could start working.
Ahhhhh… that’s better. I can breathe now. Can’t you? Doesn’t that feel amazing and freeing? Thank goodness.
But first I do have to go the tax lady. So I need to get dressed and head out. But where the hell are the boots I wanted to wear? Why can’t I find anything in this house! Bah! I need to organize my closet!
Sounds like a trip to the Container Store is in order! And of course we have to get rid of the clutter that we don’t want or need anymore, which means a trip to good will.
Okay, great. Now that’s done and I don’t have to kill myself digging around anymore and I don’t have to worry about this anymore. I can focus on other things.
And, now that taxes are done, I don’t have to think about those anymore either, right? Fantastic!
Okay, so it’s time to write. Time to sit down with this new world and figure out the point of the story and plot it out so I’ll have a map to follow and finally get this thing going because I am ready and there’s nothing stopping me now.
No excuses. No distractions.
Hey, look! An Elfquest avatar maker!
Kinda looks like me right?!
Right. Sounds like write.
Right. I’m supposed to be writing.
4 thoughts on “How to Know When a Writer Should be Writing”
Ohmigod this is hilarious and a little too real. Hey–at least your house is spotless! Hope you find the headspace to write soon.
Oh sister, I hear you!
Reblogged this on The Musings of an Author in Progress and commented:
Gonna be better about cross-posting! This was my week on the Spellbound Scribes’ Blog. Come laugh at my pain!
Funny and true and painfully close to home. Write words or garden clean-up? I’ll leave you to imagine where I’m spending my time…sigh…