OK, so this one is going to be tough. I know it is only the second day and maybe my habits are not as well-formed as I would like, but I will try to press through on this. I spent over 3 hours (not all at once, I must say, this was spread out over some other commitments) doing an online jigsaw puzzle. That is how my Thousand-Words-A-Day time disappeared like the early morning fog. Early morning fog? Not too bad. Their are other responsibilities, too, but is important to keep in mind that this is my commitment to keep this pace. I will onyl post to this site 5 days, as per the book that I am reading now by See. However, she does say that you can not make up for lost time, it is not an AVERAGE of one thousand words per day, but a commitment to get one thousand words per day. So if one day falls short, then the next day you can not make up for it. But I did not want to skip on the second day, so I am trying to write on the second day. Write a bunch of mumbo jumbo obviously, but still trying to write. I understand the Red Smith quote about writing being easy, just "slice open a vein and let it flow."
What I have got to do now and over the next few days is figure out when to write again. I assume that I can write Saturday and Sunday, although Friday tomorrow may be a problem. So my thinking is that I may skip tomorrow and get in 3 days of writing over the first 4 days of the week, my first attempt is a 4-day week. I would be terribly proud of that accomplishment. I am not there yet, but I am getting there. Life a series of small steps, and so is becoming a skilled writer. In order to write a good novel, my understanding is that it may take a million bad words to get tot eh good stuff. It is a matter of getting the words of bad novels out of the way before the good novels can come. My education background leans me to think this is more like a matter of practice, practice, practice.
Tomorrow is a new day, it was the best of times and the worst of times to be or not to be, wherefore art thou Romeo . . . when will I write words that memorable? Is that even the goal? Is my goal to be immoratl or to be respected or to be . . . what? Why am I here. Maybe I just have stories that I need to tell. Or that I want ot tell. I am uncomforatable with the word "need" in this context. I will not persih if I don't publish, but will I if I don't write. Or if not perish, maybe I will just not be as healthy a person as I hope to be. I have had experiences, maybe writing either in this context or in novelistic form, it is a chance to digest these experiences and perhaps share them. So many books have had an impact on me, and I want to have such an impact onothers. Jane Eyre, Tess of the Dubervilles, and others have actually touched my soul. I am a better person for having read some of these books, and am certainly a person of better outlook and temperment because of the fantasy aspects of these books. I am an educator because I want to change people's lives, maybe I want to be an author for the same reason. Cee talks about writing a note a day to someone that you respect in the field of literature, but I balked at this and doubt whether I will ever do it, and certainly can not see me ever getting to do that on a daily basis. But wow thinking about the notion of being on the receiveing end of this makes me tingle. I want to be on the side of touching people's lives, as I have been touched. Whether this is spiritual growth, opening one's mind to new ideas and a new paradigm of thinking, or just fun entertainment, I want to be on the giving side of that. I love being on the receiving side of these factors, and the thought of being on the giving side blows me away. Tis better to give than to receive.
Well I am three quarters there for the day and am pretty pleased. It is amazing to realize what is behind your mind when you finally open the floodgates and let yourself go. My mother once said "you are an emotional person" and it was a line that blew me away. I am shocked that I am an emotional person, but I am. The facade of cool rationality is just that, a facade. The real me is the one who feels, hurts, bleeds, and cries. I need therapy, maybe this is the therapy I need. Not just this blog, but the entire process of writing. I will eventaully get to the point where I can do my revising and writing on this blog, but this whole notion of the daily free write is something I could really get used to. Maybe I need a friend, it is sad but when I start to list my close friends I can count to zero. That is it. If that is not the life of the writer, what is? I can be nothing else, I have to be a writer. This is the way I can deal with not having a close friend. The loss of that is to turn inward and become an inner person. I feel like exploring the inner life is valuable, but I have to continue to explore that and not turn so inward that I forget to write and forget to deal with the real issues of my life. Have a good day.