It’s what I get for living in a small town. Oh I get the stars at night, full howls from coyotes, a touch of peace I’ve never quite found in the city. But when things go, the next best option is not exactly down the block.
Makes you wonder doesn’t it? I remember a time when I myself had an easier time keeping myself busy without the world wide web. Now, half my options are gone thanks to one little storm that really wasn’t anything special
It’s ironic considering I actually envy the days of old sometimes. All it took to have a good time was a fiddle, perhaps a couple kids, and a fire to dance around. No I’m serious. When was the last time you gathered with friends, family, or neighbors, struck up some music, and just let yourself go nuts? I never have. My gatherings are ussualy done around a computer, TV, or X-box. My best times are spent pouring over the net for research, or staring at a blinking cursor trying to convince the latest story I actually know what I’m doing. That does not include time spent online with friends who have either moved away, or whom I met on the games I play there.
Guess I’ve grown too close to technology. It’s not hard to do. More than a few writers have talked about battling distractions. I thought I had that under control, now I’m not so sure. That first day I caught myself wondering what I was going to do with my free time. I mean, cut off from the net, my options are suddenly more limited.
More limited? For goodness sake! “Blood of an Alpha” still needs work, two other stories need plot holes filled, and yet another was just born, which means it needs a world to explore and develop into. Seems like I have a lot to do. I just need to pick one.
Though to be fair, it is easy to loose track. More than a few times what I thought was going to be a “quick break” turned into something longer. Or even after it, I felt like I didn’t quite have the drive to return. With my internet down, and for a while by the looks of it, many of those distractions are now out of easy reach.
Apparently just as well. Woke me up to something I didn’t know needed addressing. Writing takes time, effort, but more than anything else, its own kind of discipline. My freshman English teacher called it BIC – Butt In Chair.
Well, my butt has been in a chair, but it needed three more letters. EOW- Eyes On Work. Time I remembered that, and got going on it.