Wednesday, May 16, 2018

Obsession is A Writer's Best Friend

When all else fails, obsess.

The heart of the matter is all else. I've bargained with myself. Reframed. Thrown fluffy pillows on the "writing" chair. Switched laptops (not purchased a new one, mind you; just shuffled a few around from underneath couches and such). Bought a new pencil and notebook. Recommitted. But I can't seem to finish the last damn book in my series. So, I have to obsess.

An incentive? Book cover mockup.
Writers who obsess get shit written.

Writers who obsess don't do the dishes (see last post).

Writers who obsess toss out every social invitation, forgo family obligations, lose a few bills, banish the 13-yr-old Golden Retriever to the backyard, ignore text messages, and don't see people for weeks on end. They grow hair where it's not supposed to. They drink too much wine and wear stinky socks (because y'all know I hate sorting them, and I may already do these things regardless of my word count). They forget they have kids to feed. They certainly don't check Facebook. They also don't blog about writer's block. For the obsessed, nothing gets done but the writing.

I NEED to obsess.

Okay, so I wrote 350 words on an airplane using my smartphone's "notepad" app while the folks next to me thought I was a little touched, trying to type a novel into a tiny damn screen on a smartphone with my index fingers. 350 words doesn't count. 350 words is paltry. I need 30,000.

I NEED to push this book out of my brain. Out of my life.

I NEED to obsess.