Floating on clouds in heavenly breeze, this is me this morning. There is no place my imagination can't reach. My dogs wonder at the smile that fills my face as I type, their noses sniffing: is the black plate I'm clicking on about to eject snacks?
But nothing happens and they doze back off, as I suddenly realise I could have written this better. Much better. Not this paragraph alone, but the whole chapter. Actually, the whole plot, including all character arcs. In fact, I have no idea what I'm doing. My imagination is trite and boring!
Two wet noses try to push my hands, which dropped at my sides, back up. Behind them are wagging tails. Don't despair, they wish to tell me, there will be other snacks! They always magically turn up in the kitchen!
I look at them and smile. Indeed, I don't despair. Not because I believe in magic - of course I do, but that's another thing - but because I know they're right: things will look fabulous again. And then terrible again. And so on forever.
I have a much harder time writing than other writers, because gaining concentration and keeping it are challenges for me.
I have a much easier time writing than other writers, because the ups and downs of creating are what I have come to know as life itself. I have no average: for me there are the summit and the pit, and a constant exchange between these two. So long as I remember, down at the pit, that the summit will reemerge - I'm doing great. Just like in writing.
The creative process is naturally ADHD!
But nothing happens and they doze back off, as I suddenly realise I could have written this better. Much better. Not this paragraph alone, but the whole chapter. Actually, the whole plot, including all character arcs. In fact, I have no idea what I'm doing. My imagination is trite and boring!
Two wet noses try to push my hands, which dropped at my sides, back up. Behind them are wagging tails. Don't despair, they wish to tell me, there will be other snacks! They always magically turn up in the kitchen!
I look at them and smile. Indeed, I don't despair. Not because I believe in magic - of course I do, but that's another thing - but because I know they're right: things will look fabulous again. And then terrible again. And so on forever.
I have a much harder time writing than other writers, because gaining concentration and keeping it are challenges for me.
I have a much easier time writing than other writers, because the ups and downs of creating are what I have come to know as life itself. I have no average: for me there are the summit and the pit, and a constant exchange between these two. So long as I remember, down at the pit, that the summit will reemerge - I'm doing great. Just like in writing.
The creative process is naturally ADHD!