Happy 2012!! A whole new year stands before us, undented, unbattered, unspent. Will this year, as the Mayan’s so kindly provided information about, be the last year? I’ve enjoyed the various “Life after Humans” and such on NatGeo that shows how quickly the globe can undo the destruction of humans; just how many different ways the world can end; and how many of the biblical signs of Revelation are being noted. It’s an exciting time to be alive–even if it’s just the remainder of this year!
Many moons ago, before I was able to reside in solitary splendor in my perfect house, I was a mother, a wife, and an office manager. If I wanted to buy out the time to write, I discovered that the early hours (before the sun rose to declare a new day) were the optimum time to create. And the least time in the day to receive phone calls.
I admire those writers who can labor long into the night. When I try that, the result is just gibberish. That may, in itself, explain why the due-the-next-morning papers produced in the all-night sessions in high school and college were always less than sterling quality. If I had realized then that writing in the dark at the START of the day was so much more productive . . . well, no telling what I would have achieved.
But now that I’m wiser, and have, perhaps, better understanding of my own quirks, I relish climbing out of bed while the world still sleeps and greet my characters to discuss their plans, dilemmas, and dreams.
A dear friend of mine gave me a mug that defines Writer’s Block as when your imaginary friends stop talking to you. So true. But it’s only through that wonderful written conversation with a character that I begin to know just what’s going on with him. I love when one of them discloses that the reason a particular scene isn’t working is because, “I just wouldn’t DO that!” It’s so much easier when you hear from the person herself. I would appreciate if that character would be a little more forthcoming about just what she WOULD do . . . but sometimes the scolding is all I’ll get. The situation becomes even more interesting when we continue the conversation aloud–and, of course, why I shelter two cats just in case anyone happens to hear me talking to myself. That doesn’t explain the various voices, but . . .
I do love my perfect house, set back from the quiet little road, nestled in the tall, tall trees, and virtually neighborless (at least in the summer when the nearby neighbors are hidden by all the greenery.) My light on at 3, 4, or 5 in the morning doesn’t have to be explained to anyone, nor does the darkness at nightfall or shortly after that. The sun goes down, so do I. Works for me!
Is there a method or time that works better for you? I’d love to hear what you find the best time to create.