All Work and No Play

Well I finally pulled the trigger and decided to take a week off from my (nesessary evil) day job. This is my first proper time off since Christmas so I’d say it was about time. I’ve decided to use this time to write. Nothing else, just write. And so far I’m loving this. In fact I might never go back.

Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com

Everyday I’ve actually been excited to get up and get going. It’s a wonderful feeling and not one I’ve had in a long time. It has also made me realise how much I don’t like being around people. Right now it’s just myself and my three furry familiars. The only downside is that I may be developing a slight addiction to chai. Yes I know the stereotype is coffee but unfortunately that is not an option these days.

So do i think I could dedicate myself to this full time?
Honestly yes I do. For the first time ever I feel like I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing. I’ve spoken about the dreaded imposter syndrome that plagues all of the arts before but for the first time I’m not feeling it. It simply feels…right. I can see this becoming a bit more of a regular thing for me. No more making excuses or allowing other things to gt in the way and stop the writing. I really feel like I’m ready to make this happen.

So enough of me babbling on here about ebing deliriously happy and contented. Time to put the kettle on, make a cup of chai and get cracking. The PRD have an adventure to go on and a date with a very dark and evil concisouness.

"Your really listen to that AND write at the same time?"

So there I was, ploughing through Dead Beat with Rob Zombie blaring through the house from my computer speakers, when all of a sudden I made the shocking discovery of having and empty tea mug. In a movement reminiscent of ALL of the slow motion fight scenes in 300, I grabbed the empty beverage receptacle (The cool one with the pirate flag on it) and gracefully vaulted over my desk. The mug still in my hand, I made my final run towards the kitchen. My goal was in sight and victory in my grasp when the fates sent one of their minions to stop me.

“CHIHUAHUA” I screamed

My Ninja Writer reflexes,taught to me by the Writer Ninja monks of Southern New England), instantly took over and I thrust my body in to the air. I looked down on my adversary as I flew overhead. My body was almost at then end of the somersault when I was able to put the mug safely on the counter AND turn on the kettle as momentum drew me forward. Both tasks completed, I landed on the kitchen floor, on both feet, in a pose that has only ever before been accomplished by the love child of Jackie Chan and Chuck Norris.

(Now wasn’t that way more interesting than me saying “I got up and made myself a cup of tea”?)

And what response do I get from the other residents of the kitchen?

“Do you really write to that music?” from the mother-in-law

After all that, after all the slow-mo awesomeness that took me a good five minutes to make up you ask me how I can write when listening to Rob Zombie?

I think I replied with some BS about RZ being an artist and needing to immerse myself in another artists work to stimulate my creative…yadda yadda yadda. I mean is it weird to listen to something like Rob Zombie? I don’t think so but then I’m hardly subjective. Personally I find the music I listen to will change depending on mood and what I am writing at the time. SO how about you guys? What are your musical preferences when writing?