As the temperature jumped over 100 degrees last week, I realized one thing…writing a book is a lot like going outside in an Arizona summer.
To some people, just the thought of it seems crazy — it is too hot, too hard and not worth the trouble.
But to others, there is something about it that makes us want to go for it — our body, our story just won’t stay locked inside.
On the periphery, maybe it isn’t so scary — before we leave the air condition, before we open a Word document, we don’t really know what we are getting ourselves into.
But then we start to have second thoughts — did I drink enough water, do I have the right notebook?
We start to wonder if we should wait for a better time — fall is just around the corner, right? I am too busy at work right now, right?
Finally we realize if we want to get anything done, we better just start — it is going to be hot for months, it is going to be hard for months, let’s just suck it up and begin.
Before we begin, we come up with a plan — we map out everywhere we can find shade, we map out our story, all to lessen the impact of the heat.
The first step is nerve-wracking — we ask ourselves, “will I melt?” “will I finish?”
Eventually we think, maybe this isn’t so bad — our first step keeps us within the shade from roof, within the comfort of the first page.
But then it hits us — is this what heat stroke, or writers block, feels like?
Despite the pain, we decide to keep going and guess what? We begin to get used to it — maybe we are delusional due to massive amounts of water loss, or writer’s cramp, but this is actually kind of fun.
Finally we have had our fill and it is time to call it a day — we can’t wait to do this again tomorrow.
The next day we wake up, only to forget everything we felt yesterday and begin the process all over again.