I still haven’t gotten my computer back. It was supposed to arrive on Friday, so techno-daughter could help me fix the computer over the weekend. But, hopefully, it will arrive today and I can begin the process, just without someone to hold my hand through it.
But I’ve learned something. No matter how hard it is to write. I will write.
I wrote long hand. On lined notebook paper, on scraps of computer paper, and even on polka-dotted yellow Snoopy paper.
I wrote without my writing routine. Which was really, really hard. Like most writers, I have my routine—my first drafts are written on the couch where warm Eastern light streams through the arched window. Editing is done on my bed where the room is cool and Northern light filters through a hexagonal window. Okay, I’m a little odd. But I’m not the only one. Edith Wharton wrote in bed and everything had to be just so. When she traveled, she had hotel staff move the bed so that light from the window fell “just right” across her paper.
I transcribed my scribbles from paper to the lame computer (and I’m very thankful for it) with the titled screen while sitting the peeling faux leather chair—where I am currently writing this blog post.
So, I’m telling myself that this very extended no computer time has actually been a blessing because I’ve learned patience and I’ve grown in my understanding of myself as a writer…yeah, I’m not buying it either, but that’s what I’m telling myself.
N.B. Tomorrow Screwing Up Time is going on sale at Amazon for 99 cents!
|This isn't my window--no laptop, no way to process and upload photos--but I love the way the light comes through . I think I could write there. It's a bed and breakfast in Tallin. Photo by Nieuw, courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.|