Can I blame it on my dental appointment yesterday? Or the hundred-plus temps that are frying my brain?
Sad to say, I’m a procrastinator with a bad memory. Always have been.
But that’s beside the point. What I really want to write about today is . . . well, writing. One aspect of it, at least. People say that writing is a lonely profession, but I’ve always thought that was a bad word. (Unless I’m an oddity even among other oddities.) How can you be lonely when you spend your work hours dreaming up, talking with and writing stories with hundreds of people in them?
I’ve always thought the better word was solitary. We do pretty much work alone, as far as real, living people go. Some people can write in the middle of a crowd. Some people deliberately seek crowded places with their laptops. Some work with music, television, kids in and out, and some need complete privacy. I was in that group for a while — not even music playing, or I couldn’t concentrate. I’m working on getting past that. I’ve even been writing on the laptop while Bob watches TV and the puppers are bouncing off the walls. But however we do it, unless we’re part of a writing team who actually share the same office, the work is pretty much solitary.
Granted, there are times when I’m not writing that I might feel as if I’m a freak among normal people. Most people don’t live in their heads, or create whole new worlds, or have hundreds of characters and dozens of plots to keep track of. Most people believe that a figment of their imagination would behave in exactly the way they wanted since they created them. (Most people would be wrong.)
There’s nothing better about the writing life than the other writers you get to share it with. My best buds, the people who truly understand me and don’t think I’m nuts, are all writers. They have people disobeying in their heads, too.
A solitary pursuit — yeah. But lonely? For me, heck no!
What about you?