Ever wonder, just what the creative writing process looks like in the real world?
You know, by a person who actually writes.
I mean, dude!, do they have some sort of secret system that enables them to churn out thousands of words per hour? Do they cheat and use some sort of computer program that does all the writing for them? (Yeah. You saw me. I'm totally looking at you, Daisy Meadows.) Or. You knoooow what? Maybe, it's drugs. Not like illegal drugs, people. More like those legal kind of drugs used by the government to lace all the food and coffee those Initiative army guys drank and stuff. *sniff*sniff*sip*sip* Huh. Pretty sure mine just tastes like caffeine.
(Side note: Joking about legal or illegal drugs is never funny. Because drugs are bad. Very bad. Which is why whenever I hand over my travel coffee mug for one of my kids to hold for a minute we have this conversation:
Me: (in my serious voice) Don't drop it. Don't drink it.
Them: (eye roll) I'm not going to drink it, Mommy.
Me: (eyebrow raised) Reeeally? (pause) Why not?
Them: YES! BECAUSE COFFEE IS GROOOOOOSS! AND I'M NEVER DRINKING COFFEE! NEVER!!
Which, in hindsight, is probably less a "This is your brain on drugs" talk and more of a way to make sure that with the dwindling coffee supplies in the world I'm still going to get my share. And Katie's. And Ellie's. Because good parents plan for the future.)
But now? The coffee is all gone and I'm still sitting here, looking into my computer screen, wondering, where exactly my writing process went wrong today:
Pour a cup of coffee. Open computer. Move a hairbrush, bottle of glue, six books, eight shiny rocks and one almost excavated dinosaur skeleton out of my work space on the dining room table.
Check email and various blogs. Don't reply to anything, because, you have stuff to get done!
See? Look at how much time I saved by putting all those emails off! I'm flying!
Write two sentences. Think. Realize my coffee cup is empty.
Fill coffee cup.
Note: Time includes reheating in microwave, because SOMEONE turned off the coffee pot when we all left the house for school drop off this morning. Again. Gosh. It's not like houses actually burn down from these types of appliances.
Check time. Shoot! Only, like, 35 minutes until preschool pickup! Yell, "WRITE SOMETHING!" Out loud. Because it's more motivating that way.
Writing. Realize I'm "this close" to finishing a WHOLE PARAGRAPH! Do the "I've Written A Whole Paragraph Dance". Include the jazz hands.
The call comes. I answer, because my rear doesn't fit on the tiny toilets they have at Ellie's school.
Edit half finished paragraph. Stare out window. Fall leaves are pretty....
Snap out of fall colors meditation. Realize I have less than five minutes until I have to leave and haven't eaten lunch. Run to kitchen, scoop up last week's pasta sauce with the expired corn tortillas people refuse to eat. (Even if I offer to spread Nutella on them.) Wash "lunch" down with the last of the coffee. Race out of the house.
Write the most amazing witty things! In my head. While driving. And fighting with Siri. Because she's deliberately misunderstanding me. Again. (What the heck does "NASCAR ice skates pretty messes circles around crackers hinge" mean anyway, Siri!?! Wait. No....I remember this one now. Never mind, Siri. My bad.)
Write this post. While Ellie is taking her "night night nap". (Spoiler Alert: She's really playing dress up. Upstairs. By herself. There's a skeleton involved. Because she likes skeletons. And tutus.)
Creativity. It's a hard knock life.
Personal and Private Note To Daisy Meadows: Um, Hi. Daisy Meadows? I'm sorry about that kinda whole you're not a real writer insult-ish kinda thing I kinda wrote, up there, at the top of the post. That wasn't cool. So, um, now that we're good, and, new found besties and all, do you think I could, kinda, stalk you for a bit? Just until I pick up some tips on your awesomely prolific creative process. Wait, uh, did I say stalk? No, there's a better word for that. A legal word. What is it...OH! Intern! That's right! (Mental note: interns are the legal stalkers.) Anyway, I could totally be your intern! Between the hours of 10 and noon. On Tuesday and Friday. Just, you know, think about it. Whatever you decide will be totally fine. Really. PS Your hair is pretty.
*NaNoWamO: (My) Abbreviation for National Novel Writing Month, which is in the month of November when everyone is supposed to write a 50,000 word novel. For realsie. Which is crazy, because by my math, that's like over 1,000 words a day. Do you KNOW how long it takes to count 1,000 words?
7 minutes 52 seconds.
I timed it.