Write Every Day!
Keep Writing Daily!
Or so screams
just about every MFA program out there and every other article in Writer’s Digest. But I can think of no
better way of turning something you may possibly love into a dreaded chore. Not
writing makes me miss writing. Not writing makes me crave writing. There are
numerous sexual analogies one could make here, but I will refrain.
Let
me just say that whenever I do take a break from writing and eventually get
back to it, I take my time with it. I go slowly. I spend time. I try to taste
every scene. I feel every word. I linger until the page starts to quiver and
begs me to firmly plant a period down.
Sure, I may long to pound the keyboard, but I hold back,
drawing out the pleasure for as long as I can. I don’t want the writing to end.
And then I slip in just the right adjective.
Efficacious!
But I’m not in my twenties anymore, so, afterward, I need
time to recover.
I
replenish. I get stronger. I lay back and process what’s just happened. I fantasize
about what’s to come. I smoke a cigarette and thank my lucky stars. And no
matter how badly I may want to keep writing, I wait until the page starts
flirting again.
And, later, if I find myself stuck in some dull routine, I’ll
try writing in different places. Just the other day I sat in my car, parked
outside of a church while it was raining and wrote a quickie. Or sometimes I’ll
switch it up a little by busting out an old typewriter (MILF: Machine I’d Like
to Fiction), all dolled up in vintage clothes. Or maybe I’ll get primitive and
use a pen and paper. Sure, it’s a little dull (to spice it up try a colored or
ribbed pen—or both!), but we’re never
too old to work on the basics again.
So, in conclusion, yes you could write every day.
But why would you?
I say try abstaining for a day or two, a week if you have
a strong enough constitution, and you’ll only heighten the pleasure of this ancient
pastime we call making the love.
Or,
um, writing.
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