Writing when you don't feel like it.

This is pretty much every day, in my life. That being said, I don't believe in writers block, per say. Is more like the well runs dry and it needs to be recharged in some way. Also, it's about showing up, about putting in effort even when you don't feel like it, even if all you're doing is grousing on the page about how much you don't feel like writing. Can you use that to your advantage, turn it into something you can use, somewhere, somehow? I think so, even if it's only capturing the frustration and encapsulating it for use later.

I long for the days of quiet, before kids, when the mornings were mine to do with as I pleased, and evenings were a leisurely affair. But the interesting thing is that I actually do more writing, and am mo productive, now. Go figure. I think it's because I force myself to do it, to make time for it, instead of waiting to write when everything was perfectly and my muse was whispering in dulcet tones in my ear. Now, my writing often feels utilitarian and fraught with interruptions, but these force me to focus, to jump headlong into a character’s head, rather than taking the time to prepare myself. If I don't grasp the time I have, seize the day (for lack of a better phrase), nothing gets written. I took an online writing course earlier in the year and was absurdly productive, despite the craziness going on around me. So I know I can do it, I just need to make sure that I make myself.

It’s not that I don't feel like writing, most days, honestly. It's that the day’s been crazy, I have what seems like a million things on my mind, lurking in the corners of my consciousness, and there's so much going on that I have a hard time focusing on anything, nevermind actually putting coherent words on the page. But I'm continually surprised by what I do manage to write when I'm feeling like this, if I can manage to put my butt in the chair and type out something, even if only a few meagre words.

But now, for example, the radio’s blaring, the kids are making random comments about the scenery, and I'm typing on my iPad (and fixing many typos) while we're driving into the city to pick up Dana's car and get groceries. My writing's not perfect, and it'll need editing, but it's words on the page, and that's what matters.m so the 25 or so minutes that I'd really be doing not much of anything turns into something that's at least quasi-productive, and is over 400 words more than I had when we left the house.