Gosh, where did time go? Hand on heart, when it comes to writing I have just been avoiding it over the past few months. Now hooking up with an editor again and this time I bloody WILL stick to those pesky deadlines, perhaps at a more realistic pace. My problem has always been that I sit down to write, but instead of letting it flow, I self censor and end up with a blank screen in front of me if I don’t have a perfect string of beautifully joined up words. Clearly, that’ll get me nowhere fast so it’s time to get back to this blog and just WRITE no matter what comes out.
So here we go again, timer set to 20 minutes and I will make this my ritual again like it used to be.
Well. A lot has happened, both good and bad. B’s crazy divorce came through eventually, which was a real tonic for him – two years of toxic battle couldn’t have come to an end soon enough. What a relief. And since a few weeks back – well, two weeks and six days to be precise – I have a beautiful ring on my finger, officially marking that B and I are forever. I guess he liked it. Hahr-hahr. In the middle of that, I have also managed to fall out with my father in a spectacular fashion. Little irritants and tiny scars all came together in a huge explosion and at the moment we’re not on speaking terms. Had someone said to me I’d fall out like that with Dad, I would have laughed my head off and dismissed it as crazy talk. I always considered us close, but I suppose I had him on a pedestal and at the tender young age of 39, my rose tinted glasses came off and he fell off.
You could say that in the past month, I’ve felt every emotion to its very limits. Comes with the territory, for better or worse, I am an emotional soul and everything I feel, I feel strongly. There’s rarely a middle gear, full throttle or handbreak firmly pulled. To be fair, I wouldn’t change that for the world, but maybe I feel that way because 99% of the time I’m stupidly happy. My default setting has always been contentment and gratitude, so as hellish as the lows are when they come a’knockin’, I can deal with that. It’s who I am and I couldn’t be someone else even if I tried to.
A shitty spring has turned into a shitty summer. The odd warm, sunny day is eclipsed by endless ones of wind, rain and cold. I reckon God went and cancelled May and June and gave us re-runs of October and February instead. Only last week, I saw several people in winter coats. Madness. And it doesn’t seem my native Sweden is faring any better, so who knows if we’ll get the idyllic Swedish summer that we’ve had the previous two summers we’ve gone in July. It’ll be a laugh regardless though, we have plenty lined up and B’s sons are joining us for the second week so I’m sure it’ll turn out great even if we do get rained on.
Hm.. I’m thinking this is normal – I am literally forcing my fingers to move across the keyboard. I type very fast, so this probably means I end up writing even more random shit than someone typing a little more slowly. Come on, Anna, keep going, write whatever pops into your head. And what if nothing does? A banana fly just landed on my hand, see? That’s the most interesting thought I could pluck out just now.
But what about Alice? Well, there I do have some good news – I’ve managed, in spite of this severe bout of writer’s block, retool her so that she now springs off the pages in a way that better shows who she is: warm, rather than maudlin. John has had improvements too, and Karen I executed long ago. Better stay away from over crowding it. I think the initial editor got a headache from the number of characters alone, never mind my long sentences that you can’t read out loud without turning a dark shade of blue-ish purple. I’m working on that, so bear with me.
Also starting to get the hang of showing the story more, as opposed to just telling it. It’s coming alive more and more, and as it does, my confidence grows at the same rate as its nuances multiply. I feel even better about it than I did before. I can’t say I’m completely cured from the writer’s block, but I’m now trying to take charge and give myself a good kicking. Even if I don’t feel inspired, I will sit and write – better to feel you’ve written something and have something to edit (even if ‘edit’ means selecting the whole f*cking thing and pressing ‘delete’!) than face an empty screen and a word count that hasn’t shifted since before Easter any time I go into it.
I do hope my daily 20 minutes are up soon – come on, timer, beeeeeeeeep! – because getting back on this has felt like pulling teeth. And of course, I’ve not written anything interesting whatsoever. Having said that, I didn’t create this blog to post lots of well written, well throught through and considered entries – this blog was always designed to get me writing, even if it meant a daily dose of utter shite!
Ah, finally! Beep, sweet beep! ……and I just know that before I know it, I’ll be right back in inspired mode and feel annoyed at how much too soon the damn thing signals the end of 20 minutes. Today was not that day, but perhaps tomorrow will be.