Solitude and Support

Writing is very solitary.   I have to be able to shut out the world if I want to be able to get the words down.

This is quite easy to do at work, during lunch.  The office is pretty quiet, and when people do talk, it’s usually a low murmur.  If I’m writing well, even the loud talkers fade into the background.

At home, I’m lucky.  I have my own room to go to when I write, and I can choose to write in silence or listening to music.  And when the door is closed, I don’t get bothered without a knock first.  Except for the cats.  They see the closed door as a challenge and lean all their weight on it to push it open-which is every time they try because the door doesn’t properly latch.

But at the same time, I don’t try to write much in the bedroom because Rob’s always there.  He doesn’t always realize, but he has a habit of talking over his shoulder.  I don’t know if he’s talking to me or not, and if I try to listen to music and write, I end up pulling out the earbuds often and get little done. (Maybe that’s why I’d stopped trying to write in the evenings.)

Even though I shut myself away for so long to write, I think I’d go a bit crazy without the support system.  Both Rob and his mom leave me alone to write, which is incredibly helpful because it means I have long, uninterrupted stretches of time where I can get so much written.

And any time that I get stuck, or can’t quite figure out what needs to happen, or need any sort of help, I go and talk it through with Rob.

He also has this annoying habit of saying things like “Did you write anything?” and “You’re overthingking it, just write.”  But the one I hear most often is “Finish the book.”

I’m also part of a small writing forum-very small, maybe ten active members-that’s helpful in pushing to get words written.

The downside of being so solitary is that sometimes it’s too easy to get involved in watching TV or movies, or reading books or websites.  There’s no one looking over my shoulder telling me to pick up the pen and write, just my own mind.  Until I go into the bedroom to talk to Rob.

And on occasion, he’s told me “You won’t get anything written, so you might as well play a game.”  Sometimes, I give in.  Other times, though mores with exercise, I can get myself to do what I need to.  Quite often this works better with the exercise than the writing, but I’m working on it.

Baby steps–a little improvement until it builds into a run.

About Rachel

I'm a writer in progress, and in my day job I copyedit/solve puzzles.
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