The thing that stops us from writing is not a lack of imagination.
What stops us from writing is being interrupted.
That’s what the famous author–whose name I didn’t catch–said in the Facebook ad. It’s true, and it’s probably a very successful ad. I hope they do get a lot of people buying their course on how to write.
I was thinking about that snippet all day today. I was not writing. I knew I needed to. I really wanted to. I had this weekly wonder to write, but also I have a short story I’m working on that it really exciting.
But I really had to clean the house.
Really. It’s seriously filthy. I’ve been sick…still climbing out of that pit. And I haven’t had time to do the basics. I still took a three-hour nap today, and when I woke up I just had to do something about the floor.
And I knew exactly what I was doing. Not writing.
This reminds me of when I was studying in college, and I would feel compelled to clean my house during the last week of the semester–the week when all the papers were due.
My house was so clean that week.
I was interrupting myself.
I really want to finish that short story. It’s been FOREVER since I wrote one; I was beginning to think I didn’t know how.
But I’m excited about it, but I’m still not making time.
I will be so glad when I am over this flu. I want those nap hours for my own use.
And as I mop the floor I accuse myself. Those three hours back so I can squander them on un-creative activity?
Sigh. I’m not myself. Or maybe I am, just a particularly awful version.
I have to trust that I will have the time, find the time, make the time to get to the part I long for.
The floors do look very clean now. Maybe that will help me concentrate.
And maybe tomorrow I will not need to sleep so much.
It takes longer than I want it to, but I’m moving in the right direction. At least I hope so.