So many people, especially other writers, act like writing a gift or a calling or even that some of the talent for writing, but I really think it's nothing more than an inclination. A leaning, the way my brain organizes the world around me -- I see everything as snippets of stories. The stories interlock like puzzle pieces, and those puzzle pieces make up one day. When I'm writing a book, it's like that -- I write in scenes, then string those scenes together and lace them up with just enough real experiences I keep in a box in my head. But it is a gift? A calling? Because I don't think I have a muse. Like our insurance agent doesn't have one. Or the lady who always smiles and says hello to us when we go through the checkout line in Safeway.
Some people make jewelry -- they gather piles of beads and crystals but don't see bits of glass and stones, they see the patterns and final piece even before they start stringing. Other people take sugar and blend it with a binder, creating fondant, and then sculpt the most amazing creations out of that sugar to place on a cake. Others can somehow sit in an office day after day going over and over other people's insurance needs. Others show up at a noisy school in the morning to face a squealing, sniffling, smiling, class of twenty-five ten-year-olds. I couldn't do any of that for a living, but they like what they do. Even love it. They look forward to going to work. But do they ever sit there and say, "Oh, I just don't feel motivated to do the taxes for all of these clients right now.... I think I need to watch Netflix. Oh, Jesus... look at the freaking laundry pile. It's going to eat the cats." No, they don't. Their ass is in their chair and they get their work done.
So starting in May, my ass will be in my chair to get my work done. Because I have stories left to tell, and I need to get on that, because I just made notes on two MORE stories beyond those I already have planned. I have to grow my business to succeed in this world, and that means more writing.
More ass in chair . . . I have to get my kid braces, people!