Spending a Year Writing… (Part 4)

quillFor two straight weeks, every morning started with a jolt of adrenaline. A gasp, a groan, and a lunge out of bed – I was late for work! The forces of evil drawing in on me, my termination ensured, I stumble to the shower, shaking the sleep from my mind. The shower starts, the steam rises, my mind frantically piecing together reality. Finally awake, finally understanding, I shout loud for the gods to hear, “What are you doing, moron?”

The steam stops after I turn off the water, and I stare once again into the drain as the last trickles disappear into the blackness. Shell-shocked, I sleepwalk out to the kitchen, and begin my morning coffee ritual. Boil, grind, pour, wait, finally followed by sip. The aroma, the taste, and the tingling sensation of brain cells popping awake are the final echos of my subconsciousness receding to its dark lair in the back of my mind. I can finally begin my day.

Some of my best ideas come to me in the twilight of dream and consciousness, some come in the middle of a shower. Today, it was the latter. I had merely poked about with my story, the realization that I can, and am able to be here and doing this is still novel to me, and somewhat surrealistic. Armed with my sudden, suds-fueled epiphany, I towel off, and plunk myself in front of my computer. Firing up my word processor, I am confronted by a screen that will become home to me over the next year. The blinking cursor silently waits for the deluge, poised to sprint ahead and secure a space for each successive tap of the keys. I stare for a moment, and plunge.

Four hours later, I sit and proof my work. It is a bad habit, write – then edit, don’t intersperse. Getting caught up in the minutia of word placement instead of simply writing more has brought many an author to a screeching halt. I play my cards close to my chest and tempt fate all the same; I’m visual, and how something looks is everything to me. Thankfully, my years of experience in skirting my own failings pays off and I escape before gravity takes me. I’m happy with what I wrote, the characters seem interesting and different enough. I want to know more about them and I wonder about my own sanity with that question – they are, in fact, all me.

Wonderings aside, I have a long trek in front of me; The word counter at the bottom informs my inner pessimist that this will take forever. However, the optimist that chose to take this chance realizes that this is just the start of a beautiful relationship.

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