Monday, April 4, 2011
"Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance you must keep moving." ~ Albert Einstein
Today I question my ability to write.
It isn't like I haven't written anything. I have. After my husband died, I wrote a free ebook, more than 50 free ezine articles, plus a few other freelance writer things, and recently I wrote a book.
What I do is question can I do it, again. And again.
Every time I sit down to write something, say this blog entry, I am reminded I am staring into a blank page or blank screen. Yikes. That is scary! Next thing I know the army of monkeys lurking my brain, pop out at me daring me to give it up lady, like what are you thinking?
What I do with my monkey army is allow them to jump and play. For a little while. Say, ten minutes.
I toss them a fuzzy yellow ball.
I pass the Rubik's cube.
Sometimes, I invite one or two monkeys to sit in my lap and give each monkey a Panda hug. A Panda hug is a tight squeeze with all my might action that may cause the blood to rush out a monkey's head.
What I don't do is feed my monkeys. Ever.
Number One Rule with monkeys is never feed them, not even a crumb. When you do, sheesh, awful things, too awful to mention here can happen.
Another thing I don't do is invite a monkey to spend the night. Never never ever invite a monkey into your bed. Monkeys make terrible bedmates. They kick and thrash and if you're not careful, they'll break your writing finger. Just kidding. Maybe.
What I do do is after I'm done kibbutzing *that's Yiddish for chat* with my monkey army, I kick them out. I actually announce time is up, open the door to my apartment and push the little friggers into the street, slamming the door behind them and bolting three locks.
Sometimes, my monkey army gets mad. It happens. These critters can be fierce when it comes to distraction.
But there is always the monkey police.
Monkey police are the best at getting rid of Monkey Armies.
Because they lock up monkeys long enough for a writer to get a little writing done.
Honor that driving force pulling you from your work. For a short period of time. No. You are not crazy. It's called procastination. Then roll up your shirt sleeves and get back to the task at hand, writing something.
"Keep your hand moving." --Natalie Goldberg
Now go write something. I dare you.
See you in print,
Linda Della Donna
If I can write a book, anybody can.