There’s so much to writing. There’s the idea behind whatever it is you’re trying to say. There’s technique, there’s passion. There’s structure, there’s style. And there’s rhythm. There’s a writer’s mojo.
Sometimes I’m going along and everything’s working. There are days when the words are flowing out of me so fast my fingers can’t clack the keys fast enough to keep up. I love those days.
And there are other days, when, for whatever reason, I can’t write anything. I try, but there’There’s so much to writing. There’s the idea behind whatever it is you’re trying to say. There’s technique, there’s passion. There’s structure, there’s style. And there’s rhythm. There’s a writer’s mojo.
Sometimes I’m going along and everything’s working. There are days when the words are flowing out of me so fast my fingers can’t clack the keys fast enough to keep up. I love those days.
And there are other days, when, for whatever reason, I can’t write anything. I try, but there’s nothing. Sometimes I’ll sit at the keyboard, I settle into my chair. I stare at the screen. I’ve got my fingertips on the keys … and I sit there.
Nothing.
I hate those days.
And there are days like I had today. Today wasn’t a writing day, per se, in that I wasn’t writing anything new, but I’m now in agent-seeking mode, so I’m spending a lot of my time doing agent searches online and through the Writer’s Market. And I’m typing up query letters and addressing envelopes.
I didn’t add them all up, but I must have made about 15 mistakes, just today. In like 2 or 3 hours. It was the damnedest thing.
On a normal day off (I took a few days off from work), I get up early (no later than 8 am), and on my gym day (like today) work out, shower, get dressed, eat breakfast and get to work.
But today, my mojo was a little wonky from the get-go. I got up at 8 am as planned, but I couldn’t get myself to the gym. Just didn’t have it in me. Something was off. And I didn’t shower right away either, figuring I’d get to the gym eventually, and then shower. So I wrapped up in my robe over my sweats (which I hardly ever do; I normally get into shorts and a t-shirt), read the paper, eat breakfast, and sat at my computer at about 8:30 am.
I wasn’t feeling quite right, but I felt I was making good progress on my query letters. Except that I wrote the wrong address on my first envelope, which I had already placed a stamp. So I peeled off the stamp, addressed a new envelope and replaced the stamp, only to realize that there was a misspelling on the query letter.
Taking it in stride, I corrected the letter and printed a new one, re-stuffed the envelope and sealed it, only to then realize I put the original wrong letter in the envelope, which I had to tear open–again–and start all over.
And this is how it when for another two hours. Wrong letters, misspellings, wrong envelopes. Which is when I finally decided enough was enough. I needed to break the mojo.
So I changed into my workout gear and did 30 minutes on the elliptical machine. I got a good sweat, my heart was pumping. A thumbs up work out. After a shower and change, I ate lunch and got back to my letters. My mojo was cleansed.
Only … not.
I made three more mistakes with the envelopes, threw up my hands and called it a day. Sometimes it just goes like that. Sometimes my writer’s mojo just ain’t flowing, and when that happens, I just have to walk away. There are some things you just can’t fight.
I’ll be back at it tomorrow for sure, and hope my mojo’ll be back in sync.
Either way, a writer’s mojo is a very real part of the process, and even though you can’t hold it in your hands, it has a life of its own. I’m jut along for the ride.
Post edited by: rcolchamiro, at: 2006/12/27 17:56
Post edited by: rcolchamiro, at: 2006/12/27 17:57
Post edited by: rcolchamiro, at: 2006/12/27 18:19
Post edited by: rcolchamiro, at: 2006/12/27 18:22
