Wonky day because I overslept and had a headache thanks to it. On the upside, while my brain negotiated with my brain about whether I would go straight to work or whether I would watch last night's Survivor, we reached a compromise. I have to read for school, and if I'm not going to write during my prime working hours, better reading than keeping up with reality TV.
I did watch it later this afternoon over lunch, and I won't lie, when Ozzy carved the fake idol I got really happy.
On non-wonky days, I like to write first thing -- a lot of the time I don't even get out of bed. I got in this habit when my college acting teacher made us do stream-of-consciousness journaling every morning. If I stay in bed, it doesn't feel like work, I'm less likely to censor myself, more likely to follow intuition. It's kind of like I haven't quite quit dreaming. Also, sitting down at a desk or in a coffee shop later in the day feels like a whole new activity, so I might get two sessions in.
When I put off writing, then I think about it in a will-I-won't-I? way for the rest of the day. Things that I would normally view as chores like going to the bank get labeled as procrastination. There's no point to that, because procrastination should at least be fun. Once I get annoyed with myself for feeling guilty, I'm libel to find a fun way to REALLY procrastinate.
I had a ton of options for tonight -- two plays, a poetry reading, a party -- and I somehow managed to mess up or say no to all of them, shut everything off, and write for a while, so I'm pleased. I'll still make the party, and I'll feel better having pushed past my resistance.
So for tonight, I spent a good chunk of time on an exercise, working with point of view and emotion. It kind of warmed me up to face my revision with courage, and I got 787 done on that.
In other news, I had fun watching my friends Kurt and Dina in a play last night, Contraption. They were both faboo, and Kurt makes an excellent mad scientist.
1 comment:
Your writing process intrigues me, if only because, ever since I've gone full-time, I always feel guilty writing in bed precisely because I feel like it *should* feel more like work. I spend a lot of time agonizing about whether or not to get out of the pajamas and into clothing with real, grown up, shoes and socks.
Then I remember that I don't have real, grown up shoes. So that solves that.
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