Doesn’t it seem like we should be able to sit down in our chairs, and once our butt hits the memory foam donut our fingers should be typing away non-stop on the keyboard? It’s hard enough just to get Butt-in-Chair, why does that blank page have to also taunt us?
First off, congratulate yourself, for sitting down to start. Congratulate yourself for opening up the document, and maybe even congratulate yourself for the previous three, or however many, days you sat and wrote 1000 words. Things are going great, and you are on your way.
Then one day you sit down and you start to write that next chapter, next 1000 words, and bam, nothing comes of your fingers. Or your brain. You type some words, delete them, write another sentence that might be good, but really isn’t, so you erase that. Then, you sit and stare at the blinking cursor. Why does it blink, you wonder? Why did I not have two cups of coffee today? Or maybe, I should have two cups of coffee. And a muffin. Muffins often make a difference on how a day will go. Bran muffins, especially.
This scenario, bran muffins excluded, are why being a con-artist is helpful.
You have to strategize your con. You have to set traps to keep yourself moving forward. This one is my favorite:
When the writing is pumping out, the words doing what they oughta, and I’m reaching the end of my allotment of words, or time, or someone’s hollering up the stairs they need me to do something they could do themselves, I often think I’m being devoted to my craft by ignoring the word count, time, and lost husband. But here’s where the con comes in. I stop in the middle of a scene or situation, or even sentence. I just stop. I know in my head what is going to come next whether it’s a fist fight, or bubble gum bubble burst, or a surprise pie-in-the-face, I STOP before the next reaction or action happens. This leaves a blinking cursor that signifies, “Wait! Finish the sentence, tell us what happens next!” so that when you have Butt-in-Chair again the next day, you just settle into that foam donut and start typing where you left off. You probably won’t even realize you forgot your coffee, and that muffin can be your reward for getting your 1000 words yet again today!
What if you read this post too late, and you’ve already closed out the last scene, and are waiting for ideas to pop out of that cursor? Go back to the previous day’s writing, and read, or rewrite it. Yes, type it in again, maybe just the last page, maybe more. The muse will pick up where she left off. She’s been sitting inside those words waiting for you to show up, after all.
Plenty of other cons are out there, and I’d love to hear what yours are. Are you a con-artist?
In the meantime, while you are still trying to get to your chair, and are trying to create a routine, here’s a wonderful bran muffin recipe. You can make the batter in advance as it keeps for a long time in the fridge, and then you can bake a fresh muffin each day to have with your coffee to entice you to sit down and write. Look, another con!
This was my sister-in-law’s recipe. And, I see from the date it’s 25 years old. I love these muffins. They are magic! If you know what I mean.