Leaderboard

I've haven't been feeling as inspired, story-wise, in the past few weeks. And I've realized that part of the reason why is that – ironically – my brain has much less down time now. I have no commute, which used to provide 40 minutes a day when my gnat-like attention span could jump from topic to topic and now and then strike on something good to include in one of my stories. I don't spend 30 minutes at a stretch on the treadmill or the elliptical machine at the gym, with nothing better to think about than stories; instead I'm riding my bike and looking around while watching out for cars. I haven't spent any time putting gas in my car, waiting my turn for the barber, or doing most of the other mindless things that I do in my normal life. Which means that my mind doesn’t have much time to just spin in place and come up with plot ideas or images or bits of dialogue. Weird, right?

It makes perfect sense to me, akin to why we always have really good thoughts while in the middle of a shower or waiting in an elevator. Taking a break from thinking allows the "background processing" in the brain to chew on it before pushing it into the conscious level. (Some neuroscientists may be able to put it in better words.) Though the pandemic and quarantine doesn't make as big an impact on my life, it's still tough not to have an hour or two away from my computer each day, whether I'm filling my brain with lemons & podcasts or just running between errands. No doubt another part of it is that we kind of feel like we have to be working all of the time "because there's no excuse not to." Maybe a nap or just trying to relax and stop thinking for half an hour each day (very hard at first) will fill that time. Glad you're still getting some physical activity though, harrowing as it may be. Anyway, best of luck with it. If you stumble across something that works then be sure to share.

Excerpt from A New Lease on Life – 61: Forgiveness is for the Victimized (WIP) Sometimes when I read back over what I’ve written, it feels like I just vomited up words on a page, swept it into a pile, and called it good. Other times, like this, I wonder if I carved them out of my chest and walked away without realizing a piece of my heart was missing. All I meant to do was get into the groove of the chapter and I stabbed myself right in the feels. *From a WIP/rough draft, no checking done yet – expect mis-comma-ing all over the place and maybe a spelling/grammar error or two.)

Dreams are weird indeed. Anyone else getting them? For tornadoes can jump and to observe disaster separated by cracking glass. Elur of 3?