Reclaim the Hour
I don't know how to start these things any more. It's like the how has dropped out of my head. Same when my coffee machine broke last week and I had a panic attack in the kitchen. I forgot how to react to a situation like that without tearing the roof off my emotions.
Don't look at me like I'm mad. I know I'm not the only one who's had series of minor breakdowns during all this. I'm not proud of my actions but I am trying to own them.
I'm writing my book. It's going well. I'm on the Golden Egg Academy fiction course, which is supposed to be a bit of a kick in the butt. Writing-wise. I've never done anything like this for fiction.
Obviously screenwriting is fiction but it's different and I'm still trying to train myself out of screenwriter's habits. I actually wish there was a switch or a dial, Howl's Moving Castle style, that could change the way I write.
Like, today I want to write my children's book.
Tomorrow, it might be adult fairytale graphic novel.
The day after, a visceral re-telling of the single most painful experience of my life.
I don't think it works like that though... Instead, I'm splitting apart my brain one ew-y, goey brain lump at a time, trying to compartmentalise the different sides of my writer's mind. I don't want to lose the screenwriting instinct. But I DO want to gain the novel-writing instinct.
Though it's wildly possible that I write everything like a slightly passive-aggressive email these days, as that's what I've mostly been doing...
Why is this post called, Reclaim the Hour?
In this time, you know the time, I'm not going to say it. It's boring now and I miss my friends.
In this time, I wake up, roll out of bed, grab a coffee (before my machine's act of betrayal) and turn on my computer. THEN for the next 6-7 hours, I work.
That's not healthy.
I know this.
You know this.
The pigeons that live in the tree in my garden know this.
So I'm reclaiming the hour after I wake up to do things that I like, or that I've been meaning to do, or that bring me a little spark of inspiration/gladness/satisfaction.
And what did I do this hour? That's right. It's you.
You, Blog. Untouched and unloved. Covered in almost as many cobwebs as my house. And I'll tell you something too. I think it's going pretty well. Right?
The time is 8:58am. And I have to stop soon.
But please enjoy this photograph from my favourite spot to sit in the mornings.