Over the past year, I’ve bought some writing how-to books claiming that writing a book can be “fun” and “easy”.
I want to believe that.
As David Duchovny’s character Special Agent Fox Mulder stated so fervently,
“I want to believe.”
But I can’t believe writing is fun and easy when it comes to my book.
Writing a memoir which includes disturbing epochs of one’s life is dredging up some serious muckety muck. It’s fulfilling to watch my page count increase, and to see chapters that I didn’t expect take shape, but it’s also exhausting.
Last week I had physical maladies from writing , such as a sore upper back. (I was lucky enough to get it massaged by my seven-year-old massage therapist prodigy/daughter. I graduated from massage school and she’s way better than I am!) I also had a painful shoulder from unconsciously squeezing the area while typing. I think that the kitchen table I use is too high. That’s going to change or else I’ll resemble Quasimodo
I need to do the obvious and find a lower desk for healthier body alignment, and be more conscious of my body while I write. I plan on taking some “shake out my arms” breaks.
As the chilly mornings begin once again, I can make a mellow herb tea. Sipping a cup of Organic India’s intriguing-sounding “Tulsi Rose Stress-Relieving & Magical” blend while I’m fraught with haunting memories certainly wouldn’t hurt! I’m actually sipping it right this very moment, waiting for the magic to emerge in all its glory.
Despite my aches and pains, I never forget how lucky I am to have these few hours of quiet in which to write.
For so many years I hauled myself to unfulfilling, stressful jobs in the midst of my ongoing depressions. At every position I never earned much more than ten dollars an hour, yet I worked my ass off at each job. Living in a county filled with non-profits, several of these jobs took place at various “Friends of” organizations.
Surrounded by employees and bosses who were passionate about their work, I couldn’t get excited about the projects or the missions. I used my acting skills to seem interested in what we worked on; I really did try my best. However, I know that it was apparent that my heart wasn’t in the majority of the work. I am supremely glad to be free of having to pretend I like my work!
So while yes, I’m bellyaching about how challenging it is to write, I’m still profoundly happy that I have the chance to even give writing a shot. Fingers, toes, and eyes crossed, I may actually finish my rough draft by my March 18, 2015 deadline. (a.k.a. my 45th birthday – please feel free to send me chocolate!) 😉
Thanks for reading my blog, and have a great week!
See you next weekend,