Yesterday I told my youngest sons they had to write for 15 minutes or one decent paragraph, whichever came first. (Yes, I’m one of those crazy women who thinks God said, “Homeschool your children,” and eventually, after peeling her hands off her ears, began a journey that has been going on for the last 13 years.)
Son #1 lamented the assignment. Nothing he had to say was interesting. He didn’t want to write some old, boring stuff. It just wouldn’t turn well. (Reminds me of Evangeline’s post. (See below.) I’m thinking there was some serious negative self-talk going on there.)
Son #2 suddenly lit up, grabbed his pencil and wrote in his best handwriting about his favorite subject: how sharks are innocent, beautiful creatures of God and constantly misunderstood because us land lubbers (including marine biologists) are just to “pansy” (his word not mine) to get close enough to sharks to really understand them.
Now Son #1 came up with a very decent paragraph about how much hard work it’s going to take him to earn enough money to get to the Bahama’s with his scout troop. Son #2 wrote a few pages of impassioned words which would have continued indefinitely if I hadn’t insisted math was also a subject for the day.
I’m rattling on like this because, frankly, my attitude as I sat down to write this blog was exactly like Son #1. I have nothing brilliant to say today. I don’t want to waste my time writing trivial slop. I don’t want to bore my readers. Why do I have to do this?
The thing is . . . once I sat down and started writing, I could feel this thing shaping up. I could feel a message in this blog that I hadn’t thought about before putting my finger to the keyboard. That message sounds an awful lot like a phrase I’ve heard kicked around ACFW circles for years now–something like “put your bottom in chair and write.” Now depending on the cultural upbringing in the particular Godly women who said this to me, the word “bottom” has been replaced with every extreme thought that is probably coming to your mind right now. But whatever your cultural sensibilities, the point is clear. Sit down. Put your fingers on the keyboard. Write.
Sometimes you’ll get a decent paragraph. Other times you’ll get pages of impassioned words. You might even have a few days of . . . “uh . . . I really don’t know what to write today, but the sky is sure a pretty blue . . . ” But unless you put that backside down and turn toward your computer screen what you’ll accomplish in your writing is . . . well, nothing.
Fingers on keys ladies and gentlemen! Let’s do this thing!
(And now I’m off to my laptop where there is no Internet, no enticing facebook comments, no emails from long lost friends to entice me away from my latest novel. Happy writing!)