Monday Writing Motivation: The fly in a writer’s ointment
You’re writing a story. It’s the one you’ve been dreaming of for years, the one you’ve been planning for months. You’ve written chapter one. The story stretches out before you to the sunlit heights of the climax.
But then something happens. Perhaps your protagonist – a feisty young woman with a mind of her own – objects to the direction your story is taking. “You want me to do what?” she says, indignant that you, the mere author, should be robbing her of agency.
Or perhaps you realise with a sinking feeling that the story itself has a flaw in it.
Whatever the reason, you’re totally thrown. You can’t continue with the narrative until you’ve eliminated the flaw or satisfied your heroine.
So what do you do?
Dear reader, I whipped this scenario up as an analogue to a predicament I find myself in today.
Generally, I write these pieces towards the end of the week. I know I should have a stock of them waiting to be paraded before you on a Monday, but I somehow have very seldom managed to get ahead of myself.
So come Thursday I sit down at the old laptop and consult my muse. Sometimes she throws an indifferent glance in my direction, snorts derisively and gets on with whatever muses do when they’re not inspiring. Sometimes she scratches her chin thoughtfully and says something like, “What was that thing you said yesterday about silence. I thought you could work that idea up a little. Even you should be able to squeeze five hundred words out of it.”
But something was awry. I was not feeling my usual ebullient self. “There’s something in my chest,” I told Trish. “A little scratch.”
“You’re sick,” she said at once. Trish is great at diagnosing my various ailments. This judgement, fast as a gunslinger at noon, is typical.
“I’ll do the motivation tomorrow,” I said.
Tomorrow – that is, Friday, you are following my timeline, aren’t you? – the little scratch in my chest had developed into a rasp. I spent the day lying in bed feeling sorry for myself.
On Saturday, Trish bought six Covid test packs. “Covid?” I said, “impossible. I’ve had three inoculations and one actual case of Covid.”
Trish “Better safe than sorry.”
“If I’ve got Covid,” I responded, “I’ll be both sorry and far from safe.”
“Here,” she said, handing me a nasal swab. “Swirl it round five times in each nostril.”
Well, of course, she was right. It was Covid without a doubt. And we both had it.
It’s Sunday evening as I write this. I’m feeling light-headed and a little reckless. Is that one of the symptoms of this particular iteration of the virus?
I’m hoping that you’ll forgive me for not writing a Monday Writing Motivation this week.
Except that it seems I have. Although, have I adduced the lesson from the experience in my usual fashion? (Forgive me: brain fog.) Let me just read over what I’ve written…
Oh, right. If you’re derailed by something like an intransigent protagonist, or a weakness in your story, or Covid, then the best possible solution is to turn off your computer, or set your fountain pen down, and give yourself a little break.
Sometimes that’s all that’s required. Time for the body to fight off the infection or dream up the solution to the story problem.
Happy writing,
Richard
P.S. Let me know how you’re doing, either as far as your writing is concerned, or otherwise. I’d love to hear – and it will definitely brighten my Covid induced downtime.
P.P.S.
- 17 April – Indie author webinar with Print On Demand South Africa
- 23 April – Writers’ Circle
- 26 to 28 April – Stow-on-the-Wold Writing Weekend
- 14 May – Memoir Webinar with Joanne Hichens
- 26 July to 2 August – Barrydale Memoir Weekend and Retreat
- 2 to 16 October – Venice Writing Retreat
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