Morning walks/thoughts
Writing life update and new teaser
Dear reader,
Still in a slump. Sigh. Morning walks are helping a bit. I get up at 7:30 a.m., have breakfast, huddle up in a warm jacket (it’s winter here), and head out. I walk around the same loop everyday because it’s quiet, away from the morning traffic. The area is industrial, with tons of small businesses. My breath comes out in puffs of mist. The walk only takes about ten minutes. Exercise isn’t the purpose. It’s to get some natural light into my eyeballs and wake me up. It works.
I had hoped this little morning routine would help me get more writing done in the morning, but it hasn’t. This shouldn’t have surprised me, because I know from past experience that sleepiness/alertness has little bearing on my ability to write. My productivity is more random than that.
Still, I feel like my daily morning walk is very nourishing, so I’ll continue. It also makes me get dressed (I have a bad habit of staying in my pyjamas until noon 😬).
Writing (rewriting/editing) is going at a snail’s pace. Two pieces of writing advice I saw recently have stuck with me:
As a creative practice, writing should feel like play, not work. Don’t make it too complicated.
There comes a point when you’re just changing the story, not improving it. Learn when to move on.
So I'm putting my head down, trying to squeeze the most out of my writing time, trying to move forward, and trying not to be hard on myself. I'm coming up to some very fun scenes, so I’m excited to feel the words flow again.
-Sara
Clashing with the CEO teaser
I sat in the chair opposite his desk and pulled it up close. Working in such close proximity to him felt strangely intimate. I could smell the subtle spice of his fragrance, see how his forehead crinkled as he concentrated…
I shook myself out of it. Why was I getting so distracted by him? I turned my attention to the task at hand.
When I next looked up, it was Neil’s gaze that was transfixed on me. My eye contact broke him out of his trance.
“Could you stop that?” he said.
“Stop what?” I asked, puzzled.
“Your…” He gestured near his lips.
What on earth?
“My…?”
Then it clicked. I had been poking my tongue out in concentration—an old habit I thought I had grown out of, but apparently not.
“Ah. Sorry.” Embarrassed, I sealed my mouth into a tight line.
Link roundup
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