Grammarians will say that multiple exclamation marks are redundant but I say human emotion does not follow grammatical rules and that with every extra one I added to my title I felt a damn sight better.
Life is a like a blot on a writer's manuscript.
It starts small: a household chore that can't wait, bills to pay, a relative calling, a client needing their website tweaked; (it's what I do to help my long suffering wife pay bills) not to mention the unavoidable necessities like eating, sleeping and defecating. But it grows: the butcher, the baker, the candle-stick maker. And it grows more: a family wedding or funeral, or a holiday in a valiant attempt to escape all the above - that doesn't work - the boil needs to be lanced - "life" needs to be constrained, sent to Coventry, put out of sight. Writing is a solitary pursuit .
I recently experienced much the above.
A family wedding which involved an overseas trip which turned into a holiday and for which I had to get clearance from my medical management team (read my other blog http://eyeoftherobot.blogspot.com for details) It started well - "have laptop ~ can travel" - I added about a thousand words to the current work "Arch" on the nine hour flight from Auckland to Honolulu. I was pleased but then other things became of greater priority (don't they always) . There was the outlaws to meet and get to know - a pre-wedding breakfast, wedding & reception, post wedding dining, shopping touring etc (why go all that way and sit in a hotel room writing - who do you think your are - Asimov?) On the overnight flight back to Auckland, after being up all day in Honolulu I didn't even get the laptop out. That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it. Then there was a couple of days touring NZ - Ah well, someone has to do it.
Basically the trip served several purposes that had nothing to do with writing. I did try - I just failed.
The score: Life one - Writing none.
Now I've been back for four days and yet still not back into the dynamic routine I had before I left - Unpacking restocking the fridge, counting the cost etc and while I was away the life I left behind festered like the boil it is. Rain fell, grass grew, clients and creditors yammered ...
Methinks I protest too much. I should write instead and blog that for the above turns out to be
not a blog about the process of writing
but more
a blog about the process of not writing
a blog about the process of not writing
Ooroo till next I write
