Last night, I wrote all of six words.
Six.
Impressive? No, not in the least.
Under normal circumstances, mindless television is the key to my creativity. It's something that I can drown out and still know what is going on. Noise is essential to my process. It feels silly writing that. Mostly because, do I even have a process? I usually just sit down and see where the blinking cursor takes me. This book I am trying to finish, let's call it "Ramona" - because that's the title it holds in my writing folder - is giving me a hard time. Fifty-something thousand words into it and struggling to get out the end.
It's rather annoying, really. I know what the final chapter will be, it's just getting there that's been an uphill journey through brambles on a scorching day. This is a bad place to get stuck. Most frustrating, really, when the first forty-five thousand words came spilling forth from my fingertips like they were greased up with butter and going down a slip-and-slide.
Somehow, I got sucked into the mindless television program last night.
And I wrote six words.
Six.
Instead of beating myself up about it, I'm going to try again tonight. If at first you don't succeed, and all those other catchy sayings people love.
At least I have the ability to write. I am fortunate for that. Grateful for my idea factory. The fact my laptop still boots up. And that I have the ability to watch mindless television with there being little repercussion, except another day slipping through my fingers.
Come on, Ramona. End already.
And if you really want to know what the television show was, just send me an email or something.
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