Notes from an idealist

Well today has been a real test for my focus and progress. I’ve had good news and bad which has distracted me in ways that I found difficult to navigate. Life rose up in my face demanding my attention and time just when I had committed to getting down to some writing. The decision to write today was difficult because yesterday gave me a preview of the day I had today in some respects, I was already distracted, then more happened. Writing about real world obstacles here is unavoidable if I am to authentically document my creative process, because the real world can and does get in the way of anything and everything, not only the task of writing.

I had to take a different approach to my process without the luxury of a block of time. For an hour early in the day I wrote around a piece written a while ago, anchoring it into the sea of words that I am accumulating. Then life happened. Later I returned to copy and paste sections into place to edit in when my focus is better; continuing from there tomorrow is the plan.


Balance, routine and going with the flow

Taking time away from the spurt of writing that I had done provided perspective on where I’m at. Reading back over what I had done in the space of a short week left me feeling good about my work. It was difficult to keep up the pace that I had been working at, it wasn’t sustainable for keeping in mind the big picture of what I’m doing. No doubt though, it was good to get through a chunk of writing – I got a lot of work done in those few days. It’ll have to be refined and edited further but it’s good for now, and because I got so much done, I can see better what I’m establishing in regard to both the project and process.

It was difficult to come to terms with the gap that I created by stopping for a few days. I felt like a failure but realise that I should leave the drama for the novel and accept that I can only keep up an intensity like that for stretches of a few days. Working like that had my mind swimming in words, and images, and ideas, and I was too close to everything to see clearly what I was doing. It had to stop, at least for some breathing space. Returning with fresh eyes was an intimidating idea because I’d stepped away when I was no longer able to see where I was at so when I stepped back in again to pick up where I left off, I expected to be disappointed.