Dead Collector: Bring out yer dead![A large man appears with a (seemingly) dead man over his shoulder]
Large Man: Here’s one.
Dead Collector: Nine pence.
“Dead” Man: I’m not dead.
Dead Collector: What?
Large Man: Nothing. [hands the collector his money] There’s your nine pence.
“Dead” Man: I’m not dead!
Dead Collector: ‘Ere, he says he’s not dead.
Large Man: Yes he is.
“Dead” Man: I’m not.
Dead Collector: He isn’t.
Large Man: Well, he will be soon, he’s very ill.
“Dead” Man: I’m getting better.
Large Man: No you’re not, you’ll be stone dead in a moment.
This is by far one of my favorite scenes from Monty Python and the Holy Grail. There is something about this scene that just resonates with the funny in my head; that and the word Seal. I’ll admit I have an odd sense of humor, but it is that odd sense that lends to my creative writing. I thought I’d drop a line, let my readers know, I’m not dead. Although I feel like the “Dead” Man above. Writing is a wonderful experience it is like being the first to read a good book and wanting to share it with all your friends, but you’re not entirely sure how to describe it, or if anyone else will even like it! I kicked out Mr. W.R. Itersblock, but that hasn’t stopped me from stalling and struggling with writing Atlas Rising.
I decided to amend my routine. Normally, I would take an hour during my lunch break to write as much as I could as fast as I could and hope for the best. I found this leaves me feeling exhausted and angry by the end of my lunch. No so much because I managed to write a thousand words, or near to, but more because I didn’t rest. This is exactly the sort of thing that drains a writer, among other things. So instead of rushing through my lunch trying to pen as many words as I can (let’s not even talk about how terrible they end up), I am going to enjoy my lunches, eat some food, read a book, write some in a blog, etc.
What about writing? Is the question that remains then isn’t it? Well, I have found I have great creative bursts just before I’m about to head to bed. My day is over, and my mind has had hours to mull over details and concepts. I’ve always been a sort of a night owl. So I figured, why not shut off the Television, turn on some music, and just write as my wind down for the night. I think I’ll find I dream more about my book and characters, which any writer knows is an invaluable source for material, and I think I’ll begin enjoying writing again. The last couple of weeks in these mad dashes have not been the most fun. That’s it for today, until next time.
Your friendly neighborhood author,