This weekend between running errands, doing laundry, and the ever-present house cleaning chores, I eked out four solid hours of brainstorming work on my new WIP. I find spending more than about an hour per session sees diminishing returns. At the forty-five-minute mark, my handwriting stamina peaks. Then my hand cramps, and my bottom sprouts roots into the seat cushion. My brain is steamrolling ahead, and it takes an additional fifteen minutes to reach the end of the dictation. By that point, my fingers are stiff, one of my legs has fallen asleep, and I need to move before my face freezes in the silly contorted expression I consider a mandatory tool in these situations.

So far, I have eight and a half large yellow pages filled, a cast list of twenty-six and counting, and a boatload of storyline yet to write into existence from the depths of my overactive imagination. My feverish writing, and my sore arm, made me second guess my methods. Why not just type it all into a Word.doc? When I am rolling, it is not uncommon for me to hit 80 WPM if I disregard editing and correct spelling, but concept creation and mad typing skills don’t mix. The keyboard somehow short-circuits the free flow of ideas.

Handwriting lets the idea form, take shape, and appear as coherent sentences on the page. My pen flies, and when I complete a sentence, another slides neatly behind the first. Non-stop. No interruptions, no lag time, or conscious thought processes are required. It’s like drinking from a fire hose. I won’t complain about this problem. I wish the weekends were longer.

No matter the challenges and the obstacles blocking my way, I maintain the item at the top of my list as a non-negotiable. Yesterday I wrote 502 (countable) words.

Did you write yesterday?

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer