Post-Work Writing Sessions

It is amazing to think that this is the third day in a row that I am honestly so excited to go home after work! Why? I cannot wait to write! Honestly, I'm super excited! Monday, I came straight home to sit myself on the sofa and start writing until my roommate came home. Yesterday, I was obsessed with the idea of coming home to write. Instead, I ended up doing a little cleaning around the house. However, this happens to be a common issue when I get pretty deep in writing. When I'm in deep, I lose track of the world and end up making a little island at my desk. When I get creatively blocked, I clean up, organize and can breathe again once it is back in order. I'm not as far as I typically am in my novel process but I feel that I'm just dusting off the cobwebs that occurred in the past from lack of writing. Today, my parents were at my house cleaning for my inevitable move-out (trust me, they want to get a head start). So, despite listening to the sugar in my veins, I help out cleaning, called my sister to give her a heads up about the parents and talked with my roommate. Now, I'm all settled comfortably on the sofa again, a dvd is queued up and I have a playlist of new music. I'm ready. I'm eager.

I live for these Sugarhigh moments. I am genuinely excited to write. This is my life. This is my love. And I don't want it to change.

So, do not fret if your writing starts to dwindle or you go through some serious droughts. My best friend went through a couple years with barely any writing spurts but she does have those boughs of writing energy. Life will get in your way. There is no way around it. Try your best to push yourself. Write something, anything. Write a blog. Write a journal. Write a diary. Write about how you cannot write. Write just a few short pages. Whatever it is, trust your heart. If you love it, you will not lose it. Just don't put pressure on it. Relax, smile and it will happen.

Sugarhigh in my veins again

I'm in a creative mood...which is actually surprising. A week ago, I was heartbroken thanks to my recent breakup. But, I realized fairly quickly that even after a breakup, I was ready to start writing. No, not working on my memoir about it just yet. But new story ideas that completely have nothing to do with my personal life. Maybe it is a way to break away from that storyline that is my real life? Possibly. But with everything seemingly back in place or in their new comfortable places, it seems like my writing is back on track. Sure, I'm working on some new things and I don't really foresee it as a book series let alone a novel, but I'm writing again. I'm devoted to it and I'm insanely in love with it. So what if they're just drabbles, just writings that I conjured up because I didn't want to pick up another story again? I'm inspired and running with it at full force.

Monday was actually not too bad. I went to work feeling that familiar sugarhigh buzz in my veins. I could not wait to sit down and write. I had no concept of where the story was going but I wanted to play in that world. Thank the event I went to Friday night where I relived my favorite movie on the big screen for the first time after meeting one of the film's actors whom I adore. Thank my amazing roommate for letting me spend time with him just vegging out on the couch while we watched British TV, Disney movies and ate homemade dinners of meatloaf and potatoes. Thanks to my ex-boyfriend who gave me some normalcy and friendship. Thanks to my best friend for sending me an IOU card for Chunky Monkey ice cream and love. Thanks for me for giving myself brownie points for being independent. Thanks to a long lost band who gave me inspiration, being rediscovered. Whatever it may be, I was able to write. I was able to explore. And I'm pretty excited for that fact.

I was concerned that somewhere in the 5 months prior to this, I would never write again. The experiment is still in progress on that one. But at least I know that it was not permanent.

Keep writing, writers. November is fast approaching and we eagerly await.

"It takes a lot of imagination to be a grown up"

To be a grown up, with a grown up job and responsibilities is a bit daunting. And if those priorities do not involve writing, then it becomes even more difficult. I use to want to be an author as a career. But I do believe that I would go stir crazy in my house all day all alone with a cat or dog or children running around my feet--whatever place I was in my life at the time. For me, writing was like breathing. I would write between (and sometimes during) classes. I would write with my friends. I would come home and watch movies and write. Let's be honest, my life was not that social or exciting. But it was my life and I enjoyed it.

Now that I have a desk job, you would think that writing would be a no-brainer. However, I'm stuck. Creatively, I'm bursting at the seams some days. But others, I'm stretched so thin with work that all I feel is exhaustion. I'm pretty sure that all of the writers in the world who have real grown up jobs, careers and lives feel just as over-whelmed as I do sometimes. But that's the price.

It's just finding a balance that we have to endure. Schedules and plans are my solution. That is, until I get a social life and then it all goes out the window. I spend more of my time trying to fit friends and relationships into the schedule rather than actually paying attention to what I want to do. I went to the library yesterday and they were eagerly thrilled that I was back after my hiatus. I was just renting movies but I'm getting back to my usual self. I'm reading again. I'm watching movies. And this weekend, I wrote! I've started scheduling my weekends with friends, deciding what nights I stay out and trying to devote myself better to my writing and my personal health. It's my life and I need to start figuring out what I want.

Just One Hour Of Writing Devotion

Today my roommate made me sit down and actually sit for an hour at my computer--no phone, no internet, no TV. One hour to write.

I thought I would sit and stare at that blinking line. Or I would find something to entertain my thoughts. Like, picking up the book on the edge of my bed and read the next chapter. Or sliding to the floor and playing with the sleeping puppies. Or decide that my pick-up job of my room should have become a reorganization and cleaning. But instead, I knocked out 2 1/2 pages of a new story or at least a new concept of a story. Not too shabby of the first three pages of a new story if I do say so myself. So, it's a start. Let's just pray that I keep it up! Blame it on the boyfriend or my serious grown up job or that I'm bummed out completely that my social circle ringleader just moved six hours away. Either way, you have to keep writing.

Always keep writing.