I’m officially done with my writing for the day. Five whole pages in less than two hours. It was a most momentous flow; it felt great, especially after yesterday, which was a dismal writing day. I was constipated about the current scene, agitated about the manuscript that’s with my agent (chronic state), and broody as a hen that ends up pecking its offspring’s eggshell.
(I did manage to EXPRESS MYSELF (see post just before this one) to three people, one of them in an actual face-to-face conversation! Wait, I suppose I communicated with four people, if I include my agent, and she’s nice and responsive, so she counts, too.)
Here’s why the words flowed so well, and my productivity has nothing to do with inspiration or creative excellence or diligent prep-work.
It’s this: I stumbled out of bed earlier than usual, which means I was basically still asleep while I wrote.
Still asleep. That’s the secret for me. Get up too early, groggy and sleep-deprived, and lay down the pages before my inner-critic and my distraction maven wake up. I ought to try that more often!