Monday, October 31, 2005
it was a graveyard smash
Boo! Um…..Boo! Halloween has come again and the internet proves to be, bar nun, the sassiest place to locate pictures of strangers at their...finest. This ghoulish day is the kick off for week three of being novel. I’m still riding on the great feeling of hitting my goal yesterday. It was a particular good and relieving feeling because I had spent a solid hour of staring in agony at the three-hundred and eighty some-odd words of total garbage that I managed to initially crank out. It really didn’t look like it would happen. I decided to pour myself a glass of flat, diet coke and change locations. I moved from the studio to the basement couch. Using a complicated system of blankets and pillows, I managed to sink myself in a comfortably-reclined position. I had my Playlist (WritingList, and I’m motivated to make more Playlists just so I can come up with catchier names) drifting pleasantly out of the surround sound system.
At this point, my brain had come up with a metric assload of alternatives courses of action for me to pursue. The Playstation was not far way. There were quite a few games that would be entertaining for a Sunday afternoon. The DVDs were within my line of site. I could play a computer game, perhaps dust off Wasteland for a couple of hours. Maybe I’d go for a nice long run. It was a beautiful afternoon. Or, I thought, I could always eat and watch the Weather Channel. I mean, come on. I wrote a lot last week. A lot. I deserved some self-coddling.
I determined what I really deserved, after working so hard last week, was to push ahead and hit my goal. The next one thousand words, or so, was a teeth pulling journey through verbal hell. Finally, things kicked in. The transformers sparked to life, the lines were live, and suddenly I was off and running. You know the rest.
I think I had definitely psyched myself out going into my writing session yesterday. I mean, I knew exactly how many words I needed to write to hit my goal. I didn’t have far to go. However, it was a lot for a Sunday after a week of intense writing. Everyone needs a break. I’m *certainly* no exception. I don’t mean, necessarily, a break from writing, but a break from the pressure of meeting an ambitious goal. Regardless of mild burnout, I made the goal and had time for gym and dinner. Later that night, when I sat down to write a little more, the pressure was off and it was relaxing and easy. I was capable of writing a lot more, but my eyelids were just too heavy.
I’m rewarding myself (and Jen) by downloading the new Depeche Mode album off iTunes. If only my PodCasts would update!
Tonight is the night where the spooky, greedy children walk like the dead (infused with a too much sugar). Halloween, although cute in a neighborhood of wee kiddies, can be irritating when you’ve got three dogs that are begging for an excuse – any excuse – to bark. Jen won’t be around tonight, and I had planned on doing some pretty serious writing. I think I’ll set out the courtesy bowl of snickers and other assorted fineries for the little ones and turn off the house lights.
I’ll make up for my lack of spirit on Flag Day.
Word count: 52,033.
Posted by Phil Rossi at 10:06 AM