I learned a long time ago, when people call me on the phone when I’m writing, that they don’t really care what I’m doing. Sometimes, they ask what I’m writing and rarely do I tell them. Most of the time they are just being polite so they can tell you what’s going on in their lives.
So, in order to get things done, I started writing late at night into the early morning. Actually, I started doing that when I was 16 but it’s a habit that I enjoy. I feel more feel to go to places that I wouldn’t normally go due to the interruptions that occur when the sun it out.
Now, I find myself in a place where I have to start training myself to write in the mornings. The late nights are now filled with other things that I have to do and by the time they are done my brain is far away from being able to sit and write.
But the key thing is that the interruptions have become a hell of a lot more frequent and my patience had become that much shorter. Then a magical thing happened the other day which freed up a lot of time that I used to the best of my ability.
I had a friend call me, out of the blue, who really didn’t want anything but to talk about a movie she had seen recently. I was pushing myself to get out my daily word count and I must have told her 5 or 6 times that I needed to write and if I could call her back.
Of course she ignored that fact and ranted off about her opinions on what was wrong with the film and what she would’ve done to fix it. Then she finally asked me, when she realized that I wasn’t really paying attention anymore, what I was writing about. So, I told her.
“Right now, I’m working on a story about a woman who has convinced her male lover to allow her to stimulate him anally in an attempt to bring them emotionally closer together due to his latent homosexual urges that he has revealed to her in order to stop him from acting on those urges outside of the relationship.”
Hello? Hello! Oh well. I guess I can get back to writing again.