“I haven’t blogged much since our move,” I said, “so, no.”
And yes. I go to bed, exhausted at the end of the day. My body rests while my mind works.
This isn’t a new thing really. Back when I was posting on my blog several times a week, I’d edit scheduled stories repeatedly before they went live. The best edits came at night. Undistracted I’d lie in bed reciting sentences back to myself. Trying out different, better words.
“It’s a ruckus, not a hubbub. Ah, that’s it!”
So in the middle of the night (or wee hours of the morning), I’d swing my feet out of bed and drop them onto the floor. I’d plod across the house to the office. Flip the light switch. Power up, log on. Edit. Save. Shut down and go back to bed. There were nights I walked this path a half dozen times. The weightier the post, the more crossings I made. And the funnier the mistakes I discovered after the story posted.
“Go to the poles tomorrow to vote!”
That was one of my favorites.
Now my free time to blog seems scarce and my motivation wanes. Still the writing and editing continue in my head. Full-fledged paragraphs hatch in my brain. I move prepositional phrases around like checkers on a board.
I don’t want for ideas. My writer’s block is embodied by a clock.
“Pay the bills!” it says. “Walk the dog! Drive the carpool! Cook the dinner! Go to bed!”
All good things to do, granted. People should go to bed. Even the writer should rest. And rest she does, waiting for just the right moment, the perfect turn of a phrase.
Expecting it to come oh, any day—or night—now. It will be so very moving, so electric, she’ll have to get up, smash the silly clock, and write again.
Does your mind keep writing when you lie down to sleep? How do you make time to put the words to the page (or screen)?