So as you all know my house has been in varying states of disarray the past two weeks. Part of it when they were putting in the new floors and part as I start putting the baseboards back on and putting the house back together again. What these two things combined to do was to keep me off of the computer for awhile. Not offline. I had my phone and my tablet, but off of the computer. Where I do my writing.
I did set it up last week in an awkward space and wrote a quick blog. But balancing the keyboard on my knees while I sat on the floor didn't really work for me. And this week even though the desk is set back up I've been too busy, or in the case of yesterday too sick, to sit down and write. Which has put me a few blogs behind where I wanted to be for the month, but more interestingly has lead to seepage...
Okay, nothing gross. But I noticed earlier this week that my status updates on Facebook have gotten longer and longer. If I wasn't going to make time to sit down and write my subconscious was going to take the time to at least let off a little of the pressure. So instead of one or two lines cracking a joke or talking about sports there were three and four paragraph long musings about random aspects of life. Hmm....three or four paragraphs of randomness? If only I had someplace that could go.
I get like this when I don't read as well. I notice that if I haven't spent some time reading a book (magazines and online news stories don't fill that need; it has to be books) two things happen. First off I start to get a little cranky. Secondly I start to read everything else. Descriptions on the food boxes, the fine print on internet TOS agreements, billboards, t-shirts, any words any where. It's like I get a little starved for them so I must find them someplace else. If I don't find the words the words find me.
So I have to say I'm actually pretty pleased that writing has become like that as well. I've finally done enough writing, consistently enough, that I miss it when I'm not doing it. That there will be seepage in to other areas if I don't sit down at the computer and work on a project or type out a blog.
Even if it is just a short one over lunch just to release a little of the pressure cooker going on in my head.
And lastly a wish for Colleen McCullough. I read my copy of The Thorn Birds so many times it fell apart. I am pretty sure there was a cycle for a few years where it went The Thorn Birds, East of Eden, Flowers for Algernon, toss in a few new things, rinse and repeat... rest in peace, Ms. McCullough. And thank you.