Writing, by Ultan Banan. Ruminations on the form.

Writing, Part 11

Usually, I write in the morning. Sometimes I’ll get up and make a cup of tea, and with the fog of sleep still on me I’ll sit down and get into it. This is good; that time of the morning you’re still in touch with your subconscious, the place from where art springs. Even if you’re not fully compos mentis, you can still produce. Sometimes, I’ll get up and do a light workout, have breakfast, shower, and then get into it. This is also fine. Occasionally, I’ll get caught up in emails and other shite and I won’t get around to it until afternoon. This is not ideal, but I can still knock out a thousand words if I get focused enough and can successfully navigate all the other distractions. Once upon a time, I used to meditate before writing, and this was superb: I was relaxed, supple, and productivity went through the roof. Trouble is, I don’t have the persistence and the motivation to stick at the meditation routine. It should be done every day; if it’s not, it becomes a meaningless token practice.

What is the point of this rambling diatribe? All of this to say, that I’m not as disciplined as I could be when it comes to my process. But why stress? I still get my words out, and, regardless of output, the book will happen, sooner or later. It’ll get there. I’ve heard of maniacs writing genre fiction and knocking out five or six thousand words a day, and fair play, if you can do that and keep the quality consistent, then good on ya. I couldn’t. And so I’m happy to do what I do, content in the knowledge that the next book is, if not right around the corner, then somewhere down the line. I’ll get there.

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