Writing, Cycling

It's the old saying - well, mantra - that if you're going to be a writer, then you should write everyday.  You put the butt in the chair, put in the words and the hours, and you'll come away with a book.  A book that needs to be edited and reworked, but a book nonetheless.  A lot of people say that it's hard.  Some say that it's easy and you really just need to put your butt in the chair.  With me, I'm in the middle.

I say butt in the chair is half the work.  The other half is looking at the blank page with the cursor blinking at you.  You'll think about starting, because you had that awesome idea in the shower.  You kept the awesome idea towards the front of your mind, possibly writing down slivers of the idea on random scraps of paper as you wait for breakfast to be done cooking and coffee to be done brewing.  But yet, with butt in chair and ready to write, nothing comes.

Metaphor time: You're at the top of the steep hill on your bike and you stare down into the distance.  Someone waves, trying to encourage you that it's safe to travel, but you sit still.  You sit still in your fear of what comes next.

Okay, maybe a bit too heavy on the metaphor, but you get the idea.  We stare at the blank screen because we're afraid of taking the next step.  It's not a conscious fear.  Hell, it's sometimes not even a subconscious fear.  It's just a fear that lives in our minds that happens from time to time.  It's why, when someone asks if I write everyday and I say no, that I explain that I cycle in my writing.  There are days where I can write 10,000 words - that's about three chapters for me - and then there are days like today.

Today, when I stare at the cursor and it seems to stare back as it blinks.  Teasing me.  Waving.  Reminding that it's okay to cycle down the hill.  The worst thing you're going to do is crash.  The worst thing that's going to happen, at the end of your writing journey, is someone saying no.  And even then, that's not the end, thanks to self publishing.  Just like crashing isn't the end at the bottom of the hill.  There's sailing on, there's your helmet saving your brains, and, most importantly, there's the courage you build up to try again tomorrow.

For tomorrow just might be the day where you write every word in your head.  And wouldn't that be glorious?