Anticipation built within the pit of my stomach, and the quick-step beat of my heart swallowed me whole. I wasn’t scared, I was excited. The happiness that enveloped me encouraged my positivity.
The week ahead held promise of productivity. The enticing prospect of writing continued as the sequel to Nature’s Destiny took form. The large whiteboard mounted on the wall was scribbled with ideas of the journey that I’d need to write. My characters demanded it.
I was a slave to my own desires, indulging in my imaginative mind to create a work of fiction. I enjoyed the late nights and extremely early mornings when my thoughts came into fruition.
I was forever squeezing drops into my zombiefied eyes to diminish the fatigue I was denying. I sought after caffeine as if the future of the world rested on my ability to write, and without which I couldn’t function.
I was going to bed knowing that the moment I woke up I’d be delving into my world again. As long as I had the time and ability to write, I wasn’t ever going to be unhappy.
Writing satisfied my thirst for knowledge. I couldn’t wait to learn more.
I scrolled through the music on my iPod, searching for the perfect song to match my mood. I selected the tune I knew would work best, and placed the buds into my ears.
Block chords on a piano began to play before the bass of the drum increased the tempo. A tap on the snare produced the rhythm, and a heart-pounding fill introduced the chorus.
The music streaming into my system spurred my imagination into creating scenes relative to my story line. The lyrics held meaning to my characters’ emotions and struggles. I drew on that energy, and visioned the life they were destined to live.
Music inspired my mind into creating something of value, and I realised my characters were more than a puppet in my novel. They were as real as I’d let them be, and their story was yelling at me via musical stylings.
Music influenced my writing, as it did my life. It was ingrained on my body as a reminder to create my own melody on the journey I took every day.
My personal composition became my motivation.
Nature’s Destiny theme song. Fire and Fury by Skillet. Enjoy and have a great week!
While I worked my way through the day I constantly checked my e-mails and waited on important information. I had documents that my life depended upon, and my self-confidence struggled to focus when I needed it to.
I continued to work on my rewrites, and each time my phone vibrated on the desk I jumped at the chance to check it. The e-mails were useless, a bunch of generic sales rubbish that I was bombarded with on a daily basis. It did nothing for my anxiety.
I was still waiting.
I’d reached another milestone Thursday evening; I’d completed my rewrites. Nature’s Destiny was another step closer to being published. Friday saw the beginning of the final edits, (juxtaposition anyone?) yet I still pontificated over that e-mail. No matter what I tried I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Was it good enough? Or had I digressed and lost the plot completely?
There was only so much hostility my mind could take from itself before I gave up completely.
And then it arrived with a score of 96%.
My heart swelled with happiness, and the smile that occupied my face was non-negotiable. My final creative writing assignment had returned, and it wasn’t awful like I’d convinced myself. I’d done it!
Sadness came soon after as I realised I’d finished another chapter of my life. I pondered for a while until I thought of the many pathways I was about to embark upon. After all, what good was a novel with only one chapter?
My journey was far from over with creative writing, it had barely begun. As I waved goodbye to one opportunity, I welcomed the next with a brave smile and a shielded heart.
I wasn’t invincible, but I felt like a superhero in my own world.
I wanted to write. To clear my thoughts, impart some wisdom, and to leave an imprint in the world’s readers. I wanted to inspire, to have my words relate to others, and to speak the truth through my minds imagination.
I wanted to say something.
But I couldn’t.
I couldn’t find the words of my story though I knew what I wanted to say. What could I do?
Staring at the computer screen proved ineffective, and my attention span wavered way too frequently towards finding something better to do. The achievement chart on the wall beside me stared me down in a silent challenge. I wanted to fill in the days writing goals, but 92 words seemed pathetic for a whole days work. I couldn’t write that down.
I was frustrated at myself for slowing down. I had deadlines to meet, and at the rate I was going they would pass me by with little to show for it.
I needed the ‘writer’s block’ cure. What was it?
I called to the power of twitter for writers alike, who like me, needed the extra incentive to get on with it. A 20 minute sprint with a writer unknown was all I needed to increase my 92 words to 830.
How did it work? Why did it work?
Friendly competition was enough to spur me on. It kept my concentration focused long enough to tap away at the keys furiously, to move my story along, and to meet a new acquaintance in the process. The timer chirped signalling the end of the session, and it was time to check in to relay the number of words we’d achieved. It didn’t matter who’d won, it was the companionship between writers to help each other out that was important.
Sprinting was becoming my favourite activity. It quickened my heart and sharpened my mind, and turned my writing into something more.
Are you ready to sprint?