I don’t know what to do with myself when I’m not writing. The me who is not-writing is exceptionally boring. She loafs around, stares for long periods of time at the wall, and has zero aspirations to do anything substantial. Her goals include: getting through the day; remembering to take her vitamins; finding underwear for tomorrow. On Sunday she cleaned and organized the living room. Not one of you wants to hear how I cleaned and organized the living room. It’s barely even entertaining, except for the moment when I found a hidden stash of dark chocolate with raspberry filling, which had been there for who knows how long, but I didn’t even eat it. Apparently the non-writing me doesn’t care for good chocolate. I feel sorry for her. She also made a shopping list, or started a shopping list for the grocery store, and then got bored and left it half-finished, and never went shopping for the things on it either. At least she made herself useful and found her passport.

I’m not saying I don’t have things to do, I just don’t have much will to do them.

I’m taking a break on the Unmentionable Novel for real reasons, but I know what you’re going to say: Why not work on something else for the duration? I wish I could, but I have this thing with voices. Once I’m in that magic place with a voice I absolutely cannot, should not, stop writing in that voice and switch to another. Such is the danger with first-person, but I love first-person and I won’t mess with the magic, you know?

Non-writing me just replied to three emails. She’s so courteous. Non-writing me updated her website. Actually, she messed it up very early one morning and had to wait for her web designer / adorable husband to wake up so he could fix it. Non-writing me has lots of things to read, but she also has concentration problems. She’s having trouble sitting still. I suspect she may have ADHD.

I can’t wait to start writing again.

Maybe I should start writing again.

Maybe this is proof that, without writing, my life is meaningless.

Maybe, if I don’t have a deadline, I don’t even exist.

Whoa. Scary!

, ,

4 responses to “Not-Writing”

  1. You didn’t eat that old chocolate? (but the raspberry filling must have turned a lovely crusty vintage by now!) — I totally would have.

    I fantasize about the person I WOULD be, if only I had a well-ordered writing life. You know the sort: write regularly and take a break in the sensible way. Like keep the house in tip top shape, go to the gym when I get stuck, take nice long walks and enjoy the weather. Read something in appropriate chunks and learn.

    Instead of live in a sty, stop working out for 3 weeks while the writing goes well, and gorge on bad reading till 4 am when it doesn’t.

    It looks like all or nothing. No beautiful life, *sob*


  2. No worries; you have a sense of humor, the energy to find clean clothes and even maintained your web site as necessary.
    Go enjoy some fresh air (what an excellent time of year in the city!!!) and then come back to your book(s).


%d bloggers like this: