I don’t think that title could be more click-baiting if it tried. But it was either that or “What I Learned in My Pyjamas” and while that might have got views, they probably wouldn’t have been the ones I was looking for.
But seriously, it’s been a bad two weeks, writing-wise. Last week I at least had the excuse that we’d just got back from holiday and a lot of things needed doing around the place. This week I can’t say that because even I have unpacked everything by now. It’s been a Charles Dickens week. You know, best of times, worst of times. One of those weeks that has found me questioning pretty much everything about my life.
This morning I woke up and the snow was falling gently outside my window. I grabbed my book and snuggled under the covers and was very happy there for about half an hour, until a nagging thought crept in. I should be writing my own book, not reading someone else’s. It was like one of those cartoons where there’s an angel and a devil perched on each shoulder.
Devil: Leave her alone.
Angel: Get up and write.
Devil: She’s had a tough week, she deserves to just lie in bed and relax. She can write later. Write later.
Angel: Oh yeah, when? She hasn’t written for two weeks.
Which brings me to my point. The one thing we have to do:
Write. As in force ourselves to write.
Not accept excuses like ‘my muse isn’t talking to me,’ ‘I’m too tired from work,’ ‘I’m just not inspired right now.’
We already have a job eight hours out of the day and the commute probably takes up at least another hour. Then there’s eight hours of sleep, another hour for getting ready and another for cooking and eating dinner. Then we need to spend time with our families and friends, maybe put on the odd load of laundry. If we get an hour every day to write, we’re lucky.
When that hour comes, we have to grab it. No matter how much we would rather stay in bed and read someone else’s dream. Otherwise we’ll still be sitting in our pyjamas thirty years from now, talking about how much we want to be a writer but it just doesn’t seem to want to happen for us.
The angel won. I did get up. I grabbed my computer, went back to bed, and finished the fifth draft of Chocolates on My Pillow.