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, both the Sandi Webster Mysteries and the Bogey Man Mysteries can be ordered through your favorite bookstore in paperback. Just ask for them.