Music playing, check. Children sleeping, check. Husband snoring, check. check. My most productive hours are at night. Everything is quiet and still besides the rapid movement of my fingers across the keyboard. It is just me and whatever story I am working on. I am one with the Writing Universe. All is well at the moment, all is well. Except, before I reach this harmonious stage, I am T.S. Elliot's Prufock : "And time yet for a hundred indecisions, / And for a hundred visions and revisions, . . . And indeed there will be time / To wonder "Do I dare" and "Do I dare" . . . Do I dare / Disturb the Universe / In a minute there is time / For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse."
But my thought process is not as poetic as Elliot's. It is much more chaotic, sounding something like this: Which manuscript should I work on? Why revise an old one when I can start on something new? Don't you dare start something new. I should finish something I've started. No, revise something I've finished. But, I can always do that later. So, what should I do now?
Once I have decided on a manuscript with very little effort, as you can see, I began to write. I am one with the writing Universe. All is well at the moment, all is well
Then my furry companion comes along, a cosmic collision in my Universe.
Let me out. Please let me back in. Give me water. The little one forgot to feed me.
Once her needs are met or I have chosen to ignore her, she usually falls into a deep slumber near the couch.
Now, it's time for me to start writing, again. My mind is set to launch, to imagine, to create. I am one with the Writing Universe. All is well at the moment, all is well.
Before I finish for the night, I wonder, "Do I dare and Do I dare . . . Do I dare / Disturb the Universe?"
Kennedy, the cosmic collision in my Universe