There are days when the thought of writing pulls me from slumber hours before the sun or keeps me up longer than the moon. It’s all I can think about from the moment I open my eyes until I pass out from lack of sleep. Take this last week for instance.
I’ve gone to bed before 10 not once, and normally it’s well after midnight. And I’m up again by 6 at the very latest. My morning routine revolves around the paper I write on. I must have my morning coffee and my morning writing. Other wise Mommy Monster boils under my skin and erupts in so horrid a way that even I shudder at the thought. My nights mirror the morning. I must have my evening cup of joe, and I must have my evening write. Stacks of paper litter the house, always within reach and when my hands are not otherwise occupied, I’m writing. And I’m wondering, will I experience the crash and burn I hear of so often? Will I wake one morning and find the idea of writing sickening? Will I burn out?
Well, I’ve been writing nearly non-stop in one way or the other for almost 18 years now. No sign of any crash and burn. Sure there are times when I can’t write for days, not in my novels or stories or poems. But I always have my morning and evening writings, and always paper within reach. It’s a thrill that never gets old.