I finally have time at home, time to do whatever I want – surf the internet, write, read, nap – but the heat and humidity is so high (yesterday was 42 degrees celcius in our backyard) that the computer room is the last place I want to be. You see, our house has ducted air conditioning – sounds impressive, but the stupid thing is really, really old and doesn’t work very well. Only the kitchen, lounge room and main bedroom receive the (slight) benefit, the rest of the house is boiling hot.
Ideally, my computer would be set up in the main bedroom (my room), which is something I’ve thought of, however, the internet connection is the hot end of the house. I could get “wireless”, but I’m too stingy. Besides, I do have a laptop and if I really wanted to write I can set myself up anywhere in the cool area. Thing is, here’s the problem:
I really don’t want to write. I don’t even think about it.
This is not new for me. Regulars to this site will be shaking their head and thinking “not again”. This time it’s different. Actually, it’s not really a problem as such, I’m either a writer or I’m not. To this point in my life, I thought I was, but lately I’ve found my attention drawn in other directions. In the past, when this has happened, I’ve had the comfort of, at least, thinking about my writing, about the plot at hand and that draws me back to the blank page. On this occasion I haven’t thought about writing at all. I’ve tried to make myself do so, but I find I just don’t care about it.
As I work full time, and have a family, it stands to reason that I would need time out. Now that I’m on holiday, and have met most of my obligations, I thought I’d be writing like crazy, but that’s not the case. I haven’t written a word. The week before Christmas I joined a new critique group. The first part of my children’s book is up for critique now. I don’t know how it’s going, I’ll visit later to find out, however it’s not a big concern to me either.
I’ve been saying for some time now that 2006 will be the Year of the Writer. However, there is something else about this statement that I’ve only told one person, until now, and that is that 2006 will be the “make it or break it” year for me. To date, I’ve talked about writing but haven’t done much of it. In 2006 I have to prove (to myself) that I am series, and I have to get stories written and submitted. I have to be able to be disciplined enough to write regularly, and not just talk about it. Most importantly, I have to enjoy what I’m doing. It doesn’t really matter if I don’t get anything published, although it would be nice, but if I continue on the path I’m on now, then I will call it quits and just write for myself whenever I feel the urge.
This decision isn’t a spur of the moment thing either. I’ve been thinking about this for some time. The stupid thing about all this is that if I decide to write for myself only, I know that I’ll write, write, write because I don’t have to worry about everything being perfect.
I better get the rest of my internet “stuff” done quickly, the heat is started to climb again.