Fuzzy Blue Robe Chat

I am in a fuzzy blue robe in my uninsulated, cinder block basement. My legs are freezing. My eye is swollen (conjunctivitis). My papers are a mess. But I am delighted with myself, sitting here in my cold basement with my mini-hangover.

My friend Sara gave a dinner party last night. It was a thank you for her girlfriends, who have stood by her during her messy divorce. The wine flowed, and she is an amazing cook. Naturally, I didn’t get to bed until 1 AM.

A few glasses of wine tend to shorten my sleep cycle. But the wine is only part of why I am up after only 4 hours of sleep. The idea of this blog (I promised myself I would blog every Saturday) is what kept my eyes open after my 5:30 AM alarm sounded (I always forget to cancel the alarm for the weekend!).

I am delighted to be up, hangover and all, because I am writing. I hear a satisfied little chuckle in my head—the sound of my creative self tricking my tired self into writing. The blog is a particularly useful trick: I chose a manageable timeline, and have convinced myself that I have a growing audience. Whether or not this is true, I feel I owe this encouragement-starved audience something. And my book on the “digging with a spoon” phenomenon seems so daunting sometimes. A blog I can manage. Maybe later I can glean some material for Chapter 4.

I have to face it. I need tricks. Yes, I love to write. But I also love to turn over and fall back asleep, or flip channels (even when my lean cable selection offers nothing but infomercials).

I make a lot of excuses, and sometimes motherhood is one of them. While motherhood can bring schedules from hell, emotional exhaustion, and tons of guilt, non-mothers also find great excuses not to write. I have a foggy memory of this, pre-Gavin. I seemed to need a lot of naps. I was stressed out from my nursing job. I needed (well, wanted) to shop.

I am not alone in the trick department. Julia Cameron, author of The Right to Write (I recommend it for the exercises in every chapter), is well known for her encouragement of Morning Pages, also known as freewriting. Write every day, just write. Let it be crap. Let it be nonsensical. Just write. The trick is to tell yourself that you don't have to write well.

Writers embrace Julia’s books because they know that she gets it. Your muse may come and go, but you have to show up first. You have to show her that you are ready and willing. Oh yeah, the muse is another good trick. Imagine her, invite her to tea, become superstitious about what she will and won’t tolerate. She can whip you into shape.

I am also devoted to Julia’s suggestions for “artist dates.” Plan some free time and go out with yourself. Julia recommends that there is no need to write, that these dates are more about renewal than productivity. But I I have to seize the moment and bring my laptop. Escaping for those few hours is a dose of magic that I can not waste. I drive 20 minutes away for my writer’s dates, to Borders Bookstore. I can be anonymous there. I can purchase one latte (another writer’s trick: latte as elixir of creativity), plug into the wall outlet, and they will leave me alone.

I must stop here. I am paying for last night's reveling and am feeling slightly queasy. But it is a happy sort of queasy because I wrote anyway.

Thank you for being part of my elaborate hoax on myself! May you trick yourself well and often this week.

PS: Must add a happy note on yet another trick that worked. Contest entries, with their promise of a potential reward, are a great device for getting yourself going. I just found out I won second place in a contest at one of my favorite Web sites: Funds for Writers.