The thing with writing...

Here’s what I find difficult about writing. 

Sometimes your mind can be burning with ideas. Your characters chatter away in your head, you see scenes  - image on image like beads on a rosary*- you can’t concentrate on conversations people are having around you, you drift off into storyworld while you’re in the middle of shampooing your hair in the shower and you stand there with the suds dripping off you and your skin turning wrinkly while plot-holes are fixed, motivation is explained and the way forward is revealed to you… and then, then you sit down at your computer to write it all down, feverish with anticipation, your fingers tingling with the words waiting to pour out of your brain, down your arm and out through the keys on the keyboard and… and… AND

Nothing. 

The words don’t come.

Story lines submerge themselves once more beneath the fogginess of Other Things. You sit, searching your brain for those bright gems of insight you just had and… nothing. 

You start thinking about the washing up, about the bills you haven’t paid. You start thinking about how you should be mowing the lawn, how you need to take the car in to get that engine light checked out, you notice that the windows need cleaning, remember you haven’t got any milk, that you were meant to reply to an email from your mum, that you haven’t checked social media this morning and before you know it you’re on Facebook browsing the lives of other people.

Is this just me? Why does it happen?  When will a story sucker be invented? You know, a little gadget that we can plug into our brains and that will simply suck the story straight out as it’s supposed to be. Neat and tidy, perfect as it exists inside us before our reality filters and normal life filters get in the way. 

Is writing a form of procrastination for life and life a form of procrastination for writing? All I know is that this morning I knew exactly how the next chapter of my story should be written. I KNEW. And now when I sit down to type it out, I find myself typing this instead. That’s what’s so annoying about writing – it’s so easy in your head but when you come to pin it down on the blank page it’s like catching dandelion down on a windy day wearing boxing gloves.

*yes, this is nicked from an elbow song.