I’ve always
been a strong proponent of the thought that writing can be very therapeutic.
Today, Sunday, is a good example.
The wind is
howling outside and it’s pouring rain. The dogs delight in going outside to do
their business and waiting until they’re back in the house to shake off the
rain.
The new (two
months old) refrigerator is having motor problems. It sounds like the garbage
disposal. It stops when you open the refrigerator door. Leave it open for a few
minutes, and when you close it the noise stops. If you close the door too soon,
the noise continues. Get yourself some ice cubes, and it starts screaming
again. It’s Sunday. Who wants to call for repairs on a Sunday?
Thanks to the
weather, Poop Duty has been put on hold. It’s an ugly job, but someone has to clean up the mess – daily.
There are three dogs – two yellow Labs and a Chiwienie. For those who don’t
know, a Chiwienie is half Chihuahua and half Dachshund.
After leaving
the refrigerator door open for exactly four minutes and then closing it, the
screaming has stopped. Step away from the
ice cubes.
Can’t go
outside for Poop Duty, so what’s left? The laundry is done and so is the
vacuuming. I hear a book calling my name.
Sometimes we
write a book that doesn’t hold our attention, much less the readers’. It seemed
like a good idea at the time. I started one a long time ago about a nursing
home. It hit too close to a real life situation and I couldn’t deal with the
story. Not done, but gone.
Other times
we work on a book that we enjoy, that grabs us as the writer and won’t let go. At
those times nothing seems as important as the new Work in Progress (WIP). We
lose ourselves in the story. The ideas are coming faster than we can type them.
We don’t even want to break to eat, but we have to.
We get so
wrapped up in the story that all of our problems seem to take a backseat, if
only for a little while. I love that!
None of my jobs over the years ever had the effect on me. If I’d only known, I
would have started writing the day I left kindergarten. Really.
I’ve talked
to other authors about this feeling, but unfortunately, when we get around to
the subject of marketing and promoting, it feels like someone popped our Happy
Balloon. One of the reasons is that no one seems to be able to come up with a
new and unique promotional idea. You might write the Great American Novel, but
it may not go anywhere because no one knows about it. (I’m not speaking of
myself, by the way. Great American Novel? Ha! But fun, yes.) We’ve got to run
ourselves ragged trying to get the Word out there.
I bought
three new toys for the dogs yesterday. They’re exactly alike, and yet each dog
wants the same toy – just like little kids. Let them figure it out themselves.
I have a book to write.
There are
some books that wrap us in their arms and beg to be written. Those are the ones
that are therapeutic. For a little while, it’s all about us and our book.
Nothing else matters. We can forget grinding motors, wet dogs and the celery
that went limp before we could use it in the tuna salad.
Right now I’m
writing a time travel mystery. The therapy I get from working on this WIP is
worth far more than I could ever get from a paid therapist. Sorry, Doctor, but
it’s the truth. The only thing better than writing therapy is chocolate. Hmm.
Chocolate vs. Writing. That’s too close to call.
Ah. It’s time
to get back to writing, and I think I’ll have some chocolate while I write.
Perfect solution.
Has your writing ever helped you get through
a rough day or some hard times? I sure hope so.
Here’s to
happy writing days (holding chocolate in the air).
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By the way,
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