Monday, May 21, 2007

Missing Words and Monday Sparks

It's been such an exasperating couple of days.

I've gotten a lot done, rest assured. The garden has been planted and the mulch thrown down and the weeds pulled and the laundry done and the grocery shopping and the housekeeping and so on...

Anyone notice anything missing in that list? Yep, you guessed it. No writing for me. And I'm kind of mad about it. Mad at the world because of course we all want to blame it for not accomplishing what we want to. But also mad at myself for not stopping myself, not getting up earlier, not turning off that rerun of Man vs. Wild, not putting down the latest book--though The Cater Street Hangman was a worthy read--thanks, Robyn!--and, inevitably, not standing up for myself and saying f*** it to the rest of the world.

Over at Deadline Divas last week they were discussing whether or not writing comes first. Whether or not "you" have put enough importance on writing to finish the book, to get it out there, to be a writer.

I didn't comment over there that day, mainly because I was ashamed to say that no, writing is not my first priority at this time. And I've been trying to figure out ever since why I can't at least make writing more of a priority than it is. My daily schedule is something like this: Get up at six, get Son off to school, try and squeeze in a bit of writing for that 45 minutes before I have to get ready for work, work 8 hours, come home, get dinner on, take Son to TKD or PSR or wherever he needs to be (he always needs to be somewhere), get back home...and by now it's after eight, I'm tired, and I just want to lay down. I'm usually in bed at 9:30, sometimes sooner if I want to read because the bedroom is about the only place I can have peace and quiet when Son and Sweetheart are around.

Obviously, 45 minutes a day doesn't beget progress. Most mornings I'm lucky if I pound out 100 words. I was on a streak for a while, writing daily, getting into it, but life got in the way again and I let it.

Will I ever finish the book? Who knows. Will I ever allow myself to make writing my top priority? I don't know. All I do know is that it's after eight and I have to stop and get ready for work. Joy.

Monday Sparks #10

Desperate for work, a woman enters an establishment, determined to get the job no matter what she has to say, do or accept. What establishment is it? What happens?

Happy writing, all...


Robyn said...

Awww, I'm with you, sister. I know how...skanky I guess is the word...I feel after I've sat at the computer for three hours and realize all I did was blog surf and look up obscure facts about Mike Rowe. Though you can't be blamed for watching reruns of Bear- those Discovery show hosts are hot!

StarvingWriteNow said...

Mike Rowe rocks, too. I even like those black-haired brothers on Trick My Truck. Sigh...

Anyhow, on to creativity...

Savannah pushed open the heavy wooden door, her Givenchy pumps clicking loudly against the plank floor. The inside of the tavern was spacious and dim; a lone man stood behind the bar, stacking glasses. He looked up.

"I'm here about the job," she said.

His black brows lifted nearly to his hairline.

"I need a waitress, toots, not a beauty queen."

"I beg your pardon?" she asked, shocked.

He carefully put down the rocks glasses he'd been holding, then braced his hands against the bar and leaned across. Stared her up and down like she was a prime cut in a butcher's window.

"Designer shoes, dry clean only, matching bag," he murmured, "and a hundred dollar manicure besides. This some kinda joke between you and your friends?"

"I am not joking. I need a job. I want this job."

"Sweetheart, I seriously doubt you WANT any job. You're a pampered little princess from the Heights and you're on some kind of mission. I don't know if you're pulling a prank or just feeling guilty but--"

"I assure you," she said stiffly, "I am not fooling around. I've waited tables before, I have experience--"

"And I assure you," he interrupted, eyes darkening, "the only experience my patrons would want from you is the horizontal kind."

(ran out of time. crap.)