I never wanted to live in interesting times. Interesting times should happen to other people, far away.
The truth is, I’m starting to believe I’m a main character, and whoever is writing my story is a very …. interesting writer indeed.
Looks up at the ceiling. Shouts “this better have a happy ending. No, I don’t mean the final ending. I know the hero always dies.”This should be a post on how to write through it all. Because 2020 really has had everything.
But the truth — I know, shocking — is that I don’t write through it all. In fact, if I’m stressed my subconscious locks up tighter than a strong house, and if I try to write what comes out is not even coherent.
This year — this d*mned year — I’ve found myself blocking on art and non-fiction more often than not.
The good news: Personal stuff is easing up. Supposing I can get the medical test scheduled for the 23rd and that it is okay, that will be another big hurdle cleared. We have maybe three or four of these in the next month and a half, make-or-break things that we desperately need to turn out all right. A couple already have. Maybe we’ll get lucky.
The bad news: all of which is complicated by our amazing national situation, where we seem determined to destroy our economy in the name of …. what? 80 deaths?
This is a new way of handling epidemics that are actually remarkably non-lethal. For our next trick, we’re going to commit suicide when we have the sniffles. I mean, given this response, we should all hole up in our houses, behind a double wall of toilet paper rolls pretty much every year during flu season. Or, as our Lords and Rulers are now saying, through the summer too, until flu season comes around again.
Weirdly “having had just about enough of this” does not help with the writing too. Most probably because writing is not a sharp implement I can hit people on the head with.
So… what does one do, when the writing shuts down?
I don’t know. I spend years in this state when the stress is bad enough.
It’s not block. the stories are there. I even KNOW them. I just can’t word well enough to write them. And my mind moves like a hamster on a wheel, and I can’t concentrate long enough.
Jerry Pournelle said that bad times are good for entertainers.
Lucky us, because the overreaction to the virus thing will get us plenty of those.
So, you know what? I’m going to go to bed.
And in the morning I’m going to get up and I’m going to write. Even though my mind wont’ stay still. It might read like those paintings done by chimps, but it will be words.
And that’s what I’m going to do.
Before the evil times come. And maybe, just maybe, a wall of words will keep them at bay.
This will fall a lot harder on movie companies, it will probably affect game companies, it will definitely affect bookstores and libraries.
But fortunately in these interesting times we don’t need any of those.
So somehow we’ll find our way through the stress, duct tape kids and pets to give us the space to work, and we’ll go on.
It’s what I’m going to try. I’ll tell you in the evening how well it went.
And now, stop reading this.
Go to your stations and WRITE.