It Goes Up To Eleven

It may be time to move my writing process off the computer again. I went digital again a few months back, when I was working on a redraft, and I found myself lured back into the rhythm of the keyboard and the quick accumulation of words that can be counted. And then, gradually, as things got busy and allocating my time got more complex, I started to loathe the idea of opening the laptop and the writing faded into the background.

On the other hand, I also need to do dishes. And change the sheets on my bed. And wander, blinking, into the sunlight without resenting the fact that I have to go to work.

These are not signs of not writing, they are signs of higher-than-usual stress levels. I let the little things go when I have no power to change to big things that need changing. I start questioning long-term plans, and making crazy alternatives. I stop reading new books and fall back on narrative comfort food. All my energy goes into the day-job, ’cause it requires it, and there’s not much left when I emerge.

I start running on automatic, instead of doing things in a considered and sensible way, and I dislike that feeling.

And so I find myself caught between two maxims: when in doubt, go back to the notebook, and don’t make big changes to your life when you are stressed off your dial.

This week, I’m focusing on mornings. Get up, drink coffee, eat porridge, write a thing. Doesn’t need to be big, just needs to be written. Reclaim the space and the mindset. Do something positive before the stress hammers into the rest of the day and the crazy, impractical plans start forming.

A photo posted by Peter M Ball (@petermball) on May 17, 2016 at 12:15am PDT