George and Zen

You know those times when you should have something to say? When you show up and type some words on the computer and wait for that creative genius (I'll call mine George) to show up and do their thing?

But George doesn't show and you're left with a blank page party, a handful of chocolates, and one nasty headache from the few glasses of coffee or wine that were supposed to get George there in the first place.

What do you do?

I mean, other than take a handful of ibuprofen to get rid of the headache.

I'm not moping anymore. I don't have the blahs. Strangely enough, after a sort of planes, trains, and automobiles trip to the States, I've been working on my mg novel. And I actually like it.

I'm in this Zen-like place where I have no stress about my family or writing career. It feels odd...different...in a 'I don't care if the pigeon gets me' sort of way.

But at the same time, George is nowhere to be found.

So I'm wondering...can Zen and George meet up some place and hang out and have a beer? Or are they like Yin and Yang? Destined to swirl around chasing each other forever.

Playing

I had another one of those "AHA!" moments the other day. The ones that make you feel really stupid for not realizing it until it hits you in the head like a present from the bowels of an irritated pigeon.

Writing is supposed to be fun.

I usually LOVE spending my time, fingers on the keyboard, discovering characters and then throwing them into a pit while fixing lazy dialogue like "Help me!"

But lately I avoid the keyboard like it's the worst chore in the world.

In short, I stopped playing.

It's ok. I even know why I stopped. My life for the last few months feels like one big countdown to the day my husband deploys.

I'm not going to lie. It sucks.

And I'm really looking forward to when I'm ready to start playing again.

Something Amazing

Most of my life over the last 10 years has been hurry up and wait.

Hurry to finish my degree, but wait to get a job until we're settled. Hurry to move and settle, but wait to really settle because we're moving again in a year. Hurry to write something well, but wait while the queries decide your fate.

It feels like I'm the bike riding kid in The Incredibles. Mr. Incredible asks him what he's waiting for and the kid says...

"I don't know. Something amazing, I guess."

The kid is a waiter. A writer...is patient.

There is a difference between the two.

A waiter looks around waiting for something to happen. They are the secondary characters in our stories who are forgotten as soon as the page turns or the frame ends. They are the people who spend their lives watching everybody else do something amazing.

Patience has a point. It is selected work on our stories and targeted queries to the right agent or publisher. It is smart choices about our work and our lives. And sometimes it's drinking three cups of coffee and forcing myself to sit still, to test if I can really do it:)

But most of all: It. Is. Work.

So I am tossing out my hurry up and wait life, and I'm trading it for one that is patient.

Which are you?