How have I come to trust so much in the process that I haven’t written a new sentence in two weeks? I moved some around and deleted others. I made a chart and a theme collage. For a day, at least, I moved my back burner project to the front and vice versa. I felt so relieved by this new plan and relieved again when I changed my mind the next day. I spent considerable time considering whether I should edit the six interconnected stories I have written or forge ahead with the fourteen that are mere concepts on an idea map.
Indecision, you allow me to stall indefinitely, make everything but writing a priority including joining Pinterest and trying new recipes.
Last week, I sat down to write at three in the afternoon and at four fifty had ticked five less important tasks off my to-do list but hadn’t written a word. I told everyone in my family that I was staying at work late to write, so I responded to the question, “How did writing go?” upon my return without specificity and with plenty of shame.
I’ve heard some tips famed to help with all this. Butt-in-chair. Begin with a line from a famous book. Write one page and then delete that page before you begin to write for real. Stay in the room. Communicate with your family that for ___ hour(s) you really can’t be disturbed. Hell, ask for even twenty minutes at a time if that will help you build a habit.
Trouble is, I’m having some trouble lately deciding just what my process will be.