So that’s me updated my website. I’ve posted lots of stuff on FB, some on Twitter. I’ve done a wee job for a pal. I’ve been on You Tube researching an accent. I’ve even washed the dishes.
Yup, it’s one of those days when I just can’t seem to bring myself to write.
Unfortunately, those days are becoming more and more common and frankly, it has to stop.
Never going to get into tax exile this way.
It’s a funny old game, the writing business. Actually, it’s more business than game, although you wouldn’t know that from my bank balance.
Tax exile is a long way off.
You hear talk about inspiration and the muse. Neither exist, not really. The inspiration is the initial idea, the rest of it is application. The muse is just an excuse people like me use to justify not getting down to the hard work of producing a book.
The muse is not upon me, we say as we flounce down onto a chaise longue with one hand clasped to a forehead. I don’t have a chaise longue but the rest I can manage, right down the final flounce.
The thing is, I always tell aspiring writers to write something every day, no matter what it is, just get words down and don’t worry about the quality. They can always be fixed at a later date.
It is, though, a case of don’t do what I do…
My mind, these days, is very skittish. Just when I think I’ve got down to some serious written mayhem, something bright and shiny flickers and I pounce at it like a kitten.
The thing of it is, I get up full of enthusiasm. I walk the dogs, have my morning wheatie–bangs and then come into my office, fire up the old machine and then…
..sit and stare at the screen.
I know what I want to do with the story. I know what’s going to happen next. I even know how this book ends (which as my regular reader knows is unusual).
But I cannot bring myself to write.
Must make like a pair of curtains and pull myself together.
Is ‘Singing in the Rain’ on somewhere? Maybe I should check…
Fingers on keyboard. Mind on the story. Write, damn you!
What’s that playing? It’s the theme to ‘The Taking of Pelham 123’. The original, so much better than the remake. It just went so wrong. Lacked the charm and the snap of the Matthau/Shaw interface. Of course, it didn’t have a Peter Stone script and…
Get it done. Stop shilly–shallying…
That’s a funny old phrase. Shilly–shally. Wonder what it really means? Where’s my dictionary of Phrase and Fable? Hmm – an irregular corruption of ‘Shall I’. Interesting.
Now, back to work.
Fingers poised, face towards screen, mind sharp and alert and…
I really should tidy this room up. Even a tip would turn its nose up at it. Books everywhere. Magazines, brochures, boxes.
Okay. Ready now. Fingers flexed. New chapter. Let’s do this…
I wonder what’s on the telly?