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Momentum

Starting is hard, at least for me. Once I establish a routine and find the rhythm of something, I have no trouble keeping it up. Actually, once I've got a patern down it becomes harder for me to stop. But starting off: I'll do almost anything to get out of those first two or three attempts. Anyhow, I'll stop beating around the bush and tell you what I'm trying to tell you. I want to become a serial killer. No, wait. That's not right. Sorry, I'm writing this and watching Dexter as I write this.

I'm trying to get back into the habit of writing. It's one of those resolution things. I'm not too particular about what I write, just that I do it. (That might change once I get my momentum on. Given enough time, I might get around to that erotic zombie novel I've been thinking about all these years.) Three hours a week of writing; that's the plan. It seemed like a pretty small commitment when I made it, but it gets larger and larger the more I reflect on it. Beyond putting in the time though, the real thing that makes me want to avoid writing is that I feel like I don't a have a single idea in my head. I think (I don't know but I think) that the ideas will come out of the habit. I problem solve though writing better than I do through just thinking about stuff.

So... here's me, putting in my time. That's forty-five minutes accounted for. (Yes, for real: that took three quarters of an hour to draft. I am that slow.)

Comments

Lorna said…
this is so Seinfeldish
Beth said…
I hope this three hours of writing per week will translate into more blog postings! I always smile when I see in my Google Reader that you have a new posting! You know, that or the erotic zombie novel. (Honestly, I bet there's a market for that).
Jorge said…
You and Reay need to team up. With his multitude of ideas and your fortitude of writingy fingers, you could conquer the world!
Unknown said…
I can confirm that Dave does indeed lack ideas. He proves this to me every time he tries to carry his side of a conversation with me.
Jorge said…
Maybe he just has no idea what you're talking about most of the time.

:)
kris said…
I'm trying too. And the fact that it's so difficult makes me want to junk punch someone. You're lucky you live more than a few miles away.
Unknown said…
Either Jorge just admitted I am an intelligent, witty and dynamic conversationalist who leaves Dave confused and tongue tied in the wake of my stunning and insightful observations about a myriad of complex topics, or he called me a babbling idiot.

I'm going with option a.) here...

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I should add...

... that two people were instrumental in my joining Twitter. First, Isha . She sent out an article on it when the application was still brand new. (And I remember thinking, "Screw that noise. Like I need more online commitments.) Second was Rebecca . She joined up just a short while ago, claiming she hadn't met a bandwidth she didn't like . (And then she disappeared entirely from the internets .) It looked nice and pretty over there on her sidebar, and then I got a little jealous. The rest: history. And for those unobservant among you ( Jorge ), the Twitter feed is right there on my sidebar, replacing the old Radio 3 player that I loved, but that I think scared the bejezus out of a lot of people. Also, everyone should join Twitter. I'm needing some diversions , people.
Change Two: Drink More Water Such a simple thing, yet something I just can't seem to find the time to do. About the only water I drink in your average day is whatever sweat happens to trickle off my mustache. Hydration (so the smart people tell me) is a good thing. I'm less fatigued when I drink water. I'm less hungry when I drink water. I'm even less grumpy when I drink water. I promise you nothing especially impressive. Eight glass a day ain't gonna happen. I'm shooting for two on average; two trendy, metallic, not gonna bleed Bisphenol A into my system bottles of water. I know were off to a rip-roaring start, what with the list-making and the hydration, but I'll try to get crazier with future changes. Stuff like: go to work drunk more, and buy a pair of leather pants. For now, let me ease into it.