This morning began as perfect set up for a good writing day. I walked the dogs in the cool air, rain dripped daintily from the sky, neighbors waved from their patios. I brewed a beach bellini tea and plucked a fig fresh from the tree. What could go wrong?
Paperwork of the financial type, grading essays, responding to emails.
Nails on a chalkboard.
The dream like setting beckons, the adoring characters wait. The world I was so lovingly creating has come to a standstill.
I am filled with liverwurst sandwiches.
This is why writers have phoneless, internet limited, no contact writing retreats – which are harder and harder to find.
Can you imagine even being disconnected these days? I used to say – “nothing is going to happen that you can’t hear about an hour later” – to my students to encourage them to put down their phones. But I, too, feel that same tug of addiction these days. The world moves fast. Don’t get back to someone and you lose an opportunity.
Our insta-world expects an insta-response or you’re history.
I just want to write. I want to sit down and not have to worry about anything else except the setting, timeline, character arc, beauty of language, reasoning of scene.
I’ll take the transitional cuppa, the stroll in the garden, anything to get back into my writing state…..
until the next interruption.