There are good days. Days that at the end of which, you can close your eyes and lay your head on your pillow and wrap a feeling of accomplishment around you like a warm quilt.
And then there are the days when...
Just as you were starting to write, your pets decide it's the perfect time for their reenactment of the beach landings on D-Day.
It's the day the fridge gets its long-overdue clean-out. However, opening one of the mysterious containers that has lurked in the back for who-knows-how-long (note: don't try to figure out how long it's been there; the answer is never good), the gooey substance you discover sparks an idea for an incident in your current writing project. You hie yourself to the computer and begin to write. Time passes. Time really passes. As you come back into the kitchen for a glass of water, you see the open refrigerator door and the puddle on your kitchen table that used to be a carton of ice cream and sated expressions on your cats' faces.
One of your cats climbs on top of your desk and gazes at you. You try to ignore it and type on, but the unblinking stare becomes hypnotic. You start to wonder if the cat is trying to send you a message. Has he sensed in some strange cat-way that your writing is really bad? Really good? Or, is he trying to tell you his food dish needs filling?
You look down or up on your way to the computer. This is a fatal error. You discover cobwebs in the corners and a carpet which desperately needs to be vacuumed. If you're me, your next question is: "Will anyone other than who lives here see this?"
You've just reread the climax of your story and it has left you flat. You decide what it needs is a dragon and (for fun) rewrite the portion with a dragon in the mix. This writing sings. As you hold your head in your hands you can almost swear you hear your cat laughing.
It's the day the fridge gets its long-overdue clean-out. However, opening one of the mysterious containers that has lurked in the back for who-knows-how-long (note: don't try to figure out how long it's been there; the answer is never good), the gooey substance you discover sparks an idea for an incident in your current writing project. You hie yourself to the computer and begin to write. Time passes. Time really passes. As you come back into the kitchen for a glass of water, you see the open refrigerator door and the puddle on your kitchen table that used to be a carton of ice cream and sated expressions on your cats' faces.
One of your cats climbs on top of your desk and gazes at you. You try to ignore it and type on, but the unblinking stare becomes hypnotic. You start to wonder if the cat is trying to send you a message. Has he sensed in some strange cat-way that your writing is really bad? Really good? Or, is he trying to tell you his food dish needs filling?
You look down or up on your way to the computer. This is a fatal error. You discover cobwebs in the corners and a carpet which desperately needs to be vacuumed. If you're me, your next question is: "Will anyone other than who lives here see this?"
You've just reread the climax of your story and it has left you flat. You decide what it needs is a dragon and (for fun) rewrite the portion with a dragon in the mix. This writing sings. As you hold your head in your hands you can almost swear you hear your cat laughing.
I'm laughing out loud for real. The plumber is here now. Need I say more?
ReplyDeleteCarol; I feel triumphant. Thanks.
ReplyDeleteElspeth - I love this description of Those Days. They are the ones where you feel a sense of triumph just getting through them. I am not going to show this post to my dogs; they are good enough already at staging World War III in my living room when they sense that I am trying to write. I don't want to encourage them ;-).
ReplyDeleteMargot; Never encourage reenactments. Trust me on this.
ReplyDeleteThis is so good! I felt the warm quilt of accomplishment after the weekend at a writers' retreat, but now I'm back home amidst the clutter and, yes, cobwebs. At least I don't have cats!
ReplyDeleteAhh, but cats do not laugh. They snicker and roll their eyes.
ReplyDeleteLoved this post. You should leave in the dragon. Even if it doesn't make sense plot-wise.
Patricia; I'm sure you have metaphorical cats. Look about you. Something is judging you. However, I'm glad you liked the post!
ReplyDeleteHelen; If I could figure out how to leave in the dragon, I would! Just not that many actual dragons wandering around in my novel's world. Maybe it's a car...hmmmm....
Yes, the cats would be snickering about the dragon and wondering why they aren't starring in your novel...
ReplyDeletecats do laugh. dogs merely fart quietly and leave the room. why is that?
ReplyDeleteThanks - I needed this.
Oh, the chaos. It's always around!
ReplyDeleteLOL! I tend to work exactly the opposite. I write because I see all those other things that need to be done. Laundry? Ironing? Cleaning the bathrooms? Nope. Have to write.
ReplyDeleteTerry
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Romance with a Twist--of Mystery