The Not-Writing Part of Writing

"If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing." -1 Corinthians 13:2

“Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in you. Show me the way I should go, for to you I entrust my life." - Psalm 143:8

Some days, I just can’t find my writing niche. It’s like a fickle friend, vanishing into the evening mist, just when you think I need it have it the most. I get that. All the time. In fact, one comes to the point where one is pretty much CERTAIN that all writers lose their writing abilities every now and then. I mean, it can’t just be me, right? When no matter what you write, it comes out through your fingertips into the story as painfully as gargling nails (or shaking hands with sandpaper, more like), and the entire time, you’re thinking: Argh, this is no good, this is no good-

Excuse me, a three year old is requesting a puppet show, and I must go.

There, you see? And the puppet show turned into a wild, irrepressible, subaquatic romp, which turned into star gazing whilst simultaneously dragging out the trash, which turned into having a deep discussion on the mysteries of marshmallows (among other things), which led to a critical Murtlap bite, which led to dropping to sleep without a single page of Villette, which led to waking up, which led to binge-reading T. S. Eliot whilst simultaneously brushing my teeth, which led to this: and there, another afternoon, evening, and morning, without any proper writing done.

Why is it that I sometimes avoid the thing I most love to do?

If I just think about it for a moment, I may have an answer. In the meantime, Johnny, stop sulking.

Don’t know what you’re talking about, Princess. I’m not sulking.

And when you use that endearment, I know you are.

If you’ll recall a few blog posts ago (and you can tell how old-ish this computer I’m using is getting, it is completely bamboozled by the English term, “blog”), I had mentioned the start of a quest, a

short, writing sabbatical that would be the first start and finish of a real, fictional story aside from my main, extremely important project, in…would that be five years, then?

Real fictional? REAL fictional??

And I didn’t mean to, but I think that project has slightly affected Johnny a little bit, because, see, he wasn’t a part of it. Come on, Johnny, you knew it was only temporary! And I came back, didn’t I?

Go away.

I’ve already apologized, even though I still don’t think it was called for. Don’t worry, he’ll come around.

Don’t bet your valuables on it.

Anyway. It felt extremely refreshing, and empowering to write that “short” story. It is about five inches tall, and perhaps a centimeter thick, and I am completely satisfied with it. Goes to show how those unexpected, unplanned detours can be the best kind of adventures. Most books with satisfying plotlines can attest to this, if you’ll notice.

Perhaps the same is true in our writing endeavors too, come to think of it. After all, some of the best bits of writing that I’ve done have developed out of moments of unexpected inspiration, or ideas that sprouted due to the unplanned (or even unwanted), events in my life. Come to think of it…almost all of them did. What a coincidence.

Coincidence indeed.

Speaking to me again?

No.

There is a tip as sharp as a sharpened pencil good for all great writers to have (and as I say, sharp pencil, sharp mind), which is that- although writing involves lots of writing (obviously), there is another element to writing, which is the non-writing portion of your writing journey. When you’re doing all of the other things, the important things (such as dragging out the trash and looking at the stars, or performing a puppet show that turns into a wild, irrepressible, subaquatic romp), that’s when your brilliant writing brain is subconsciously growing. Rolling ideas around like stones in the crick; becoming smoother, clearer, and more approachable. Absolutely everything you do, no matter what, is always getting stored away into the files of your head, being saved as evidence, material, substantiation, options. In short: ideas.

Ah, ideas. That fuel which we love and hate and need so desperately.

If you spend every single breathing hour of your spare time writing, your crick of writing ideas is going to become as dry as a poorly-delivered punch line. Trust me. My recommendation is to fill your head with as many worthwhile, interesting things as you can. Places, events, activities, and yes, even people. Introverted as I may be, I cannot ignore the fact that the interaction with other people is the most vital ingredient to successful writing.

So, yes, I suppose that spending time away from this laptop was useful. I had time to gather up my thoughts, and polish them. Useful indeed. Results in much higher-quality writing than I would have otherwise had. You know what else I’ve noticed is extremely helpful for getting over a writing slump? Giving up time that would have otherwise been used staring at a blinking cursor, and using it to-

Excuse me, a few certain menacing (when they’re hungry), rabbits need let outside, and I must go.

There. Now. Where was I? What was I saying? Oh, yes. Using time to help other people. Make the world a safer, brighter, healthier place. It’s all worthwhile stuff, believe me. For instance, while I was outside putting Kudo and Sweeti Pi (two of our more conventionally christened beasts), outside, I had a chance to feel a delicious Summer breeze that I hadn’t felt in ages. That, if nothing else, made it worthwhile.

In fact, while I was outside, I came to a thought. About that one bit. That I’ve been struggling with. In my book. That must be substantiation!

I you’ll excuse me, there are words now waiting on the edge of my brain to be released, and I must go. Ready, Johnny? Johnny?

Alright, alright. Ready.

Write well, all! And read well, too.