Empty notebookSemester has finished. I’ve sent off my grade spreadsheets. It’s time to do something about my writing impasse. (Let’s not call it a block. That might start a panic.) I’ve had quite a few ideas come and go over the last year. Trouble is, if I don’t pin them down and try and get some sense out of them, they scarper. I watch them wander off into the night and decide we’d have been no good together anyway.

I know you need to work at these things. I know you don’t know what you’ve got till you live with it for a bit. I do know.

Here, in the interests of humiliating myself into action, are the thought processes that have been turning me into a commitment-phoby sook:

  • I had wanted to write my last novel all my life. I loved writing that book. It was a family story that I knew I would do whatever it took to finish. I don’t have any more of those. Maybe I’m done.
  • I’m too busy. Something will happen to clear the time. Then I’ll be ready. If I try and pack another thing into my schedule now I’ll just be wasting my ideas.
  • Everything I get excited about starts to look ordinary after a day or two and I want the next book to be completely amazing.
  • When I start running I’ll have the energy to write.

And this is where we know I’m in trouble. Running, ha!

Pathetic. I have about a month until next semester, and even a long trip without the kids. A person could probably write a couple of chapters on a plane trip to the other side of the world. (Yes, nogoingtolondon is going to London. Whoops.) If that person knew what she was doing.

This is my plan. It doesn’t look like much but it’s all I’ve got. I’m going to buy a new notebook right now (or shall I get a keyboard for the iPad? No, paper. Doesn’t have Twitter, email or Words with Friends on it). I am going to write for an hour every day. If I don’t have an hour I will write for half an hour, or ten minutes. The notebook will be like a basket of cloth scraps. I will go from door to door collecting vaguely promising bits and pieces and sort through them later. Maybe I can make a really lovely frock.

Tell me what you do to get yourself up from a lying down start. I’ll put that in my basket too.

And wish me luck.