This morning, N and I sat across our usual Panera table from each other, no conversation, apart from notifications that one of us is getting up to refill beverage, or make room for more beverage. The rest of the time, we had fingers on the keyboards of our AlphaSmart Neos, making with the tippity tap. N counted the words she added to her document during this session, and came up with a pretty good number. Do not ask me what it was, but it was good. I did not count, only kept moving forward, with occasional breaks to stretch, and would have happily kept going, had not Mr. N arrived to whisk N away and drop me home.
At some point, I will connect Neo and desktop, and make some sense out of what I typed into the new file, ove multiple cups of tea. I hadn’t gone into this session with a game plan, which is unlike me, but, when N discovered that she’d brought the wrong file with her, and announced she would start a new one, I told her I would do the same, in solidarity.
For both of us, this was the telling ourselves the story phase, where we are shoveling sand into the metaphorical sandboxes and we will craft it into dragons, castles, or whatever, later on, when it’s time to add water and shells and all that good stuff. At first, I thought I’d draft this blog entry during our live writing session, but that’s not what ended up happening. As writing sessions often start, I began this one by brain dumping into the file, (aka blorching) and trusting that, in time, I would make something resembling actual fiction at some point. Which is what happened. For this particular session, it ended up being me reaching into my long-term memory, because the actual notes I wanted to go with were stored in a chat log I did not have access to at the time (partly because I was not on the internet. This is one of the benefits of the AlphaSmart, and why I will be using it more often, in the future.)
I think I did okay on this one, and N reports that she is also satisfied with her own results. We’ll be doing this again in the future. N also asked me to blog about procrastination, and, ironically, I will be doing that later because this morning’s acting as if I knew what I was doing turned into –surprise, surprise- me actually knowing what I was doing, I am now in the groove, and want to hold onto that. Call it priming the pump, warmups, authorial appetizers, whatever, all I know is that , today, it worked.
Today’s picture is the bottom shelf of my bookshelf-turned desk. I did take a regular deskscape, but don’t think I’ve shared the bottom shelf, at least since it found its current iteration. Tallest to shortest, we have my Her Last First Kiss binder, (in need of complete overhaul, but that’s another story, pun intended) desk planner, Dylusions traveler’s notebook (for daily agenda,) big pen case, small pen case, silverware organizer that is now a pen organizer, because it is too big for our kitchen drawers. The binder found its place this morning, on my way out the door, to meet N, because the way it was floating around my corner of our common room was driving me crazy, and it needed a home already.
Having the items I need, at arm’s reach, in order, and easily accessible, makes the business of writing a lot smoother, and a lot more fun. When I came home, I put the AlphaSmart (it lives in its bag) in its appointed place, so what I wrote there can have some time to mellow, and I can concentrate on what’s next on my list. Today, it’s this entry, and then I have a scene to edit for Drama King. After that, I have Melva’s notes on the latest chapter of Her Last First Kiss. Having someone to be accountable to for this project helps keep me focused, and I like being able to give a positive answer for how things are going for Bern and Ruby (hint: not smooth sailing for them at this point, but I am having a blast.)
Okay, that’s the magic seven hundred (self imposed minimum blog word count) so time to pop this entry on the blog, grab some lunch, and then off to play with my imaginary friends. What are you up to, this fine midweek?