I’m blogging from bed right now, wearing only the lint from my flannel bedsheets.
This morning I woke in one of those slow dramatic thinking modes. Every lazy twist and turn my brain-tunnels took was some exaggerated incredible idea. After awhile, I stopped daydreaming (I’m sure the thought process was very close to dreaming while awake) and focused on one thought in particular: I’m never going to be one of the crazy-prolific writers. The writers you read about because they wrote over a hundred books during their lifetimes. Asimov and Silverberg come to mind in the science fiction realm, but it seems like about one author a week in the writer’s almanac talks about another one. Someone who was driven to write–possessed by their passion for it. I am a slow writer, and as a result should really focus on quality, not the crappy quantity nanowrimo stuff (although that was good because it forced me to write something). Anyways, I haven’t been writing. One of the biggest reasons for taking the new job was so I’d have some time to write on the weekdays. But so far it’s just been party every night. Board games and video games, inviting people over at every opportunity. It doesn’t help any that laura doesn’t work, so when I get home she’s starving for attention almost as badly as the cats do when everyone has been out all day. I don’t mind that, but sometimes I’m exactly the opposite, and I want to hibernate for a while when I get home.
Anyway, point is, write more, game less. (yeah, write.)
In the old days, when Asimov and Silverberg were young and hungry writers, there were no computer games (or Internet) to distract them from writing. ;)
Now that the future has already happened, why write about it? We’re living it. (Or are we? Discuss.)
I will do my part to make sure you write. We’ll just be sure to watch Disney movies all the time. And we’ll sing the songs from them. Then you wouldn’t like to hang around…
It’s true, I wouldn’t like to hang around. But a (likely unintended) side effect would also be that I would spend all of that time upstairs (while writing) harboring plots for your death. So while I might get a nice murder mystery out of it, you might also loose your life. Frankly, I’m not sure it’s a fair trade-off. Anyway, I’d suggest against it.