I’m always interested in reading about author’s tendencies in regards to writing, so I thought I would share what a writing day is like for me.
I’m not at all a morning person but I find that I feel better about the day if I start at a reasonable time. The puppy (well, our nine-year-old basset hound who still responds to “puppy”) and I eat breakfast in the kitchen. Once we’re both ready for our day, I take all the necessary items into the office: lap blanket, pot of tea, jar of honey, notebook, whatever books I need. And lastly, the aforementioned puppy, who naps on a fleece Red Sox blanket while I write. I like to be sitting at my desk by 9 a.m. at the latest. I check my email (a good distraction) but then it’s time to get to work.
Starting is always slow, but when I’m inspired, writing feels really good. That’s not to say that it’s easy, or that everything I write is great and is going to stay that way, but it feels good. It clicks along, and I learn new things as I go. There is a definite euphoria in writing something that I’m excited about. If a writing day goes well I’ll only get up to periodically take out the dog. I can easily skip lunch; it doesn’t even occur to me to be hungry. If anything, I’ll lag a bit in the afternoon, but then the sunset tends to re-energize me.
If the writing isn’t going well, the day drags. I get up out of my seat and start to graze. This is the problem with working at home: the kitchen is a little too close for comfort, at times. I have lunch. Then I snack. If things are going really badly, then I’m standing in the kitchen shoving red hot cinnimon bears into my mouth. I try to reserve cracking out the pint of ice cream and the soup spoon for when I’m stuck in the midst of a difficult revision.
But we writers can’t expect it to be sunshine and puppy dogs (well, one puppy dog) and roses all the time…or in my case: corsets and daggers and thorns. Writing is a compulsion for me so I don’t feel quite right unless I’m working on something. Even when things aren’t going well I must have faith that the euphoria, the joy, the bliss I’ve experienced before might be right around the corner, just waiting to spring. It’s a good feeling. And I’ve always been a writer. So I would be a fool to stop searching for it, now.