[originally written 1/23/08]
It’s not easy being a writer. On the other hand, when the words are spilling out of my fingers onto the keyboard like a gushing spring… it’s easy being a writer.
Take this morning. This is one of those days when my brain feels like cold sludge and barely any creativity is surfacing. Okay.. well, maybe some creativity since I was able to put that sentence in the first paragraph together. But not much more than that.
It’s getting toward the end of Jan. I’ve been inside mostly writing since early Nov. My cats are getting cabin fever and running around the house chasing imaginary critters. Max, my elegant tabby, actually went after a stuffed mouse about ten minutes ago. He never does that! Only Suzanne goes after the fake mice. They, like me, get that feeling of lethargy and listlessness mixed with an ounce of claustrophobia. But they don’t want to go out either. Too cold. I do want to go out. I have to.
The long and short of it is that I need to get out of the house in order to be back in the house to write. I’ve learned that I need to exercise almost every morning to clear the sludge out. This means schlepping to my workout place about 10 miles away and pumping blood through my arteries and veins on the elliptical machine until I’ve dislodged the morning sediment in my gray matter…and schlepping back – to feel that my brain and creative juices are well freed up.
What is time anyway? I find that a good morning workout leads to a far more productive writing session in the afternoon.
On that note… I gotta go work out.