distraction no.99

Nova Ren Suma | On Writing & Writing Distractions

Not an Author Newsletter… something else.

Precious Mornings

This morning my alarm didn’t go off. Faintly, in the fuzzy distance, I began to wonder what time it might be. I was sure it was past six. It took me some minutes to force myself to a sitting position so I could catch sight of the alarm clock. Sure enough, it was past the time when my alarm was supposed to go off. Once I climbed down out of the loft I discovered that I’d set the alarm for p.m., not a.m. Still, I’d woken up anyway. A miracle.

I could have kept sleeping and missed the whole morning. I would not have written what I wrote this morning. I am so thankful that I woke up.

This reminds me of a wonderful comment on one of my earlier posts:

Hi from a stranger who loves your blog. I, too, have thought about giving up recently — which is terrifying, because just like you, I’ve been committed to this word gig since elementary school. Even as I sit around thinking, “I’ll never get anywhere, I’m not good enough, I don’t work hard enough, I should quit” I start to feel kind of queasy because I know I can never entirely stop. It just can’t happen.

Here’s what I do now: I wake up early every weekday and write or revise for an hour and a half before work. I never, ever thought I’d be one of those insane early riser writers, but I’m so glad I tried it. Now, for the rest of the day, I feel happy that I accomplished something. . . .

This is exactly how I’m feeling lately. It’s the mornings that make the rest of the day bearable. It’s so lucky I didn’t miss this morning. What I wrote today had me sailing through an impossibly long day at work. I’m still sailing a little now. It’s worth the effort, worth the loss of sleep. It is.

Stranger, I guess we’re insane early risers together. I hope you had a good morning, too.


4 responses to “Precious Mornings”

  1. I caught myself wondering today if my new place (and shorter commute) would lead to more morning activity. It’s mostly your fault.

  2. Yojo, hmmm, maybe that’s not so bad? You make me want to write poetry, speed through the city on a bike, and learn to paint. So your fault!

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