I managed to hit my two thousand words today. Barely. I spent my morning at the remote office, aka Starbucks, intending to spend a few hours writing at a relaxed pace. By the time I left, shortly after 11 AM, my output was a touch over a thousand.
The guy behind me loudly handling tech calls, who told his colleague, “I’m at Starbucks because my wife said I was annoying her,” did not help. I did not turn around and ask if he thought it a good idea to come annoy the rest of us, tempting though I was. Turns out he forgot his phone charger, and no one would lend him one, so he went home about halfway through my session.
That is the danger of writing outside a space you control, but most of the time, this isn’t an issue. The true trouble today was my mind leaping to other, non-writing tasks, refusing to focus. Worse, the words I managed to write, both at Starbucks and home? I’m not happy with them. Every one will have to be re-done, and I may toss the scene out and write fresh.
That’s for another day. Now, I’m trying finish this letter, so I can do the other things life demands. I’m lucky I can follow my chosen career path, but I didn’t realize quite how much non-writing work I took on. I had an idea because I took workshops and watched published friends. Until you step into those shoes, though, you don’t understand how the work feels or how much it will impact your schedule.
This is a short one today, because I’m going to sign off and take care of as many of these outstanding tasks as I can. They’ve been piling up over the last few days and the best way to put my day back on an even keel is to get them done, so they stop taking up space in my schedule and my head. I don’t believe in waiting for a watery tart to lob a sword in my direction, but I understand the output can be impacted by how I’m feeling.
When I’m done, I’m going to curl up with a book and refill the well. I haven’t done enough reading lately, either.
Talk to you tomorrow,