When Life Throws a Curveball—L.Kappel

It seems that my miniscule creative writing skills evaporate after ten o’clock in the morning. This leaves me with little choice if I am to produce words that are creative. All the advice from authors appears to endorse very early morning productivity.

 Having a writing routine, to fit into my ever-evolving life and its chaos, at times seems akin to setting out to sea in a rubber dingy. I had hoped a writing routine would bring about jaw-dropping works, but it does appear I also have to work at it.

So mornings it is, I should sit in front of the screen or notebook and get writing. If not the story, an outline, the plot, character traits.

 As always in life we are thrown curve balls!

 It all started with my son’s divorce. (Some of us have been there, including me.)

 He stayed with me whilst dealing with the costs of it all, allowing me a close-up view of his journey of rediscovery.

 Then my own journey of rediscovery began with the selling of my home.

 After several years in the same property, my three bedrooms plus garage had accommodated my accumulations gracefully. It was a difficult transition: nine months in a home that no longer felt like mine, what with staging, not a crumb on the floor, no messy work desk, showings and—of course—looking for my next home.

 Then the sold sign went up, and the process of packing began—perhaps drudgery of packing is more appropriate.

 Then came finding a home that would accommodate my son and me in separate suites, plus two dogs and a deaf senior cat. This voyeurism of the would-be house-buyer, poking around the homes of others, would have been far more enjoyable had they not also staged their home.

 All this staging made me think of murder. I do enjoy a well-staged murder, where the scene offers a message from the deranged killer.

 But back to the move: My life was finally moved out and boxed in, every room. I have not shrunk, but my surroundings have, and now I’m wishing for an Alice-shrinking pill:

 My inspiration and motivation stalled completely towards the end of this move. My laptop also decided that it, too, had had enough.

 Thankfully, I was saved by my writing group mantra: write once, copy twice. I keep multiple copies, both memory sticks and printed versions. My printed versions traveled with me as precious cargo.

 With my new digs, I got a new laptop. I decided to go with Apple. I already had an iPhone and an iPad: How difficult could it be? Three failed data transfers later, thank goodness for the right tech support.

 The light always at the end-of-the-move tunnel was my inspirational writing group, four fabulous ladies plus me. Before and during the move, I was completely bogged down by one short story, on a treadmill, going nowhere. Writing is hard, at least it is for me, and the words don’t pop into my brain like popcorn in the microwave. I began to feel my writing slip to second even third place in my lengthening list of priorities.

 My DeadLies kept pulling me forward.

 The DeadLies met several years ago, when we were taking the same mystery writing course. Our daily voluntary morning writing Zoom sessions keeps a skeleton of a routine in place for me. The format works for us: we write for periods of 40 to 50 minutes, screen and sound off. Then we check in and do a second round of writing. Sometimes all of us write, and at other times, there are just a couple DeadLies on the call.

 Find your group of like-minded writers: that commonality helped glue us together. Keep it simple and focused on the writing. Accountability, encouragement and putting in the time are all so important.

 The move in was a real squeeze; my separate office and writing room are now gone. But I made a tiny area for a small table, my laptop and printer: a small shrine to my shrinking creative cells.

 Just sitting in my creative space does not, in and of itself, start the flow of words I had hoped for. But having a dedicated workspace has always been important to me, during my work life and my retirement. It is another motivational pull: my notes can remain as I left them, I can jot an idea down with ease. While the creative space does not make the words flow, it does remind me of the world I am trying to create.

 I hope this has inspired you: no matter what boxes you must pack or unpack, no matter what space in life you are moving to or from, enjoy the worlds you create.