The key to writing is discipline.
I suppose the good news is that I’ve
identified it. The not-so-good news is that I don’t seem to have mastered it as
of late.
I’ve been relatively prolific on Twitter as
of late (@BrentHCameron for those wanting to follow….please?) but I really
don’t think that counts. It’s 140 characters, and it usually gets used when I
am in a particularly smart-alecky mood…and it’s the weekend…and it’s late…and…Anyway, beyond exercising my typing fingers
and my clownish tendencies, I don’t think I’ve actually accomplished much by
it.
Now don’t get me wrong. I do have something
that is similar to discipline, like the difference between real coffee and
decaf (I’m sorry, but c’mon now…). I have a specific time each day, from Monday
to Friday, and in the same spot. If I am duly inspired, I can churn out a
somewhat respectable bit of writing.
Today was one such day, and it felt really
good to get in there and mix it about. Felt good until I looked at the page
count, which has risen as quickly as the odometer in the Griswold family
station wagon haplessly meandering on its way to Walley World. The voice inside
my head was telling me this wonderful story and pestering me to write faster.
Lately, it just sits in the back seat and whines ‘Are we there yet?’ or ‘Can
you pull over? I gotta pee!’
One of us – the writer or the voice – needs
a cuff in the head, or a kick in the pants. Unfortunately the voice has neither
a head nor the need for fashionable slacks, so its humble human vessel needs to
put its middle-aged doughy self back into the game.
And yes, in writing this, I appear to have used up my allotment of novel writing time for today...
