So, I’m revising the last quarter of the sequel to CLAIRE DE LUNE, and here’s the short playlist that I have on repeat while I work on the most intense section of the book (warning – some of these songs are beyond explicit.) If you like them, please support the artists by purchasing the music from a legitimate download site like iTunes. Thanks!
Guitar Hero by Amanda Palmer
Criminal by The Roots
Someday You Will Be Loved by Death Cab for Cutie
Leeds United by Amanda Palmer (again)
So, today, I did not want to write. I’m tired, it had been a frustrating morning, next week will be crazy-insane-busy, and I just. wasn’t. feeling it. It was so very tempting to just bag it and read a book. I mean, I’m not on any serious deadlines. There’s no reason I *had* to write today.
Except that I was supposed to. It was not a scheduled day off (I give myself scheduled breaks after big deadlines.) Nothing catastrophic happened that made it legitimate to play hooky (kids getting sick and needing care is the usual situation for that one.) And – the kicker – I had help with the kids, which meant I had daytime hours to write.
I sat down. I fooled around on Twitter for a few minutes, updating stuff about Friday’s big Month-a-versary THING for Claire de Lune. And then I opened my pages file and started to write.
It sucked.
I started checking my word count FIFTY WORDS IN. My personal daily requirement on days I have childcare is 1,000 words. Preferably more. It was baaaaaaad. But I believe in working every day, so I slogged on. Trudge.
Trudge.
Trudge.
Two hundred words.
Trudge.
Trudge.
Three hundred words.
BAM! LIGHTNING BOLT! And then I wrote seven hundred words in about forty-five minutes and kept going and was DYING for the kids to go to bed because even though I had my thousand words plus some, I was on FIRE.
This is why I write every day, even when I don’t feel like it. Sometimes that breakthrough comes at three hundred words. Sometimes at seven hundred. Sometimes it doesn’t come at all, and it’s just WORK, but there’s still a thousand words to show for it, and sometimes those hardest-earned ones feel the best afterwards.
Writing isn’t something that happens in little sparkly-lit, cloud-scented moments of perfect inspiration. I’ve said over and over that waiting for that to happen is a fool’s errand. Inspiration doesn’t come around to make me work, it comes around because I AM WORKING.
Everyone out there who wants to be a writer and wants to know how I got here? I put my butt in the chair, and I WRITE. Even when I don’t want to. Even when it’s terrible. And days like today prove to me why I still do it that way, every day.