The Ugly Necessity of Pre-Dawn Writing

It’s been forever and a day since I updated, and I have no good excuse expect that I started a new job, moved into a new place, and had some other fun stuff shake up my life a bit.  None of this is reason to stop writing, of course.  If anything, I should have kept on it to use the stress and tension as fuel.  The worst part was for me to get back into the habit of writing on a consistent basis.  I would tell myself every day that I would get at least a page done before bed.  More often than not I would end up eating a less than splendid dinner and passing out after an episode of Family Guy.  I know, I know–brain junk-food, but it’s so funny!

The solution to my problem was MorningMonstera sinister beast lurking in a dark corner–no–he was just sitting in the middle of the room,  behemothic and ready to devour me as soon as I gave in to the urge to face it (I think there is some cardinal rule that you must actually see a monster before it eats your  head off).  Every book on writing states that you must set aside a specific time slot for writing and make it holy, and nearly every one of them also says that morning is best–not because the creative juices are flowing  at an ungodly hour, (trust me, you have to hack your creative head with an ice pick to get any crap out of it before the sun comes up) but because it is the only way you get to it before something else comes up and forces you to put it off.

I managed to get my butt in bed by 11:00 last night and thought I was so cleverly tricking my early-morning self into being productive.  Let me say that I am actually somewhat a morning person.  Even if I am traveling and staying out until 3 in the morning, I have trouble sleeping in past 8:00.  Expecting me to be up and functioning before 6:00 AM is absurd though, and when my alarm went off at 5:15, I wanted to travel back in time seven hours so I could kick myself for thinking of this moronic idea.  I hit snooze once, then forced myself up, cussing like an arthritic geriatric as I fumbled to the kitchen and the coffee machine altar.

All that bitching aside, I wrote two pages in an hour.  I know I was cranking out four or five during NaNoWriMo, but I’m happy enough about the progress that I thought I’d brag about it on here for all two of my fans.  Of course, tonight I will have to drug myself silly to get to bed at 10:30 and not be so haggard, but I am determined to make this habit.  I am imposing a deadline that I will not wake up 35 years old and still be an accountant.  I have 8.5 years to do that, and even if I’m just doing two pages a day, that’s 6,200+ pages of horse shit I could have as proof that I tried by then.

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