5:33 a.m.: Sitting in front of blank screen, swearing at futility of extracting a few unique words, a few glittering gems, from sleep-deprived brain. It’s like playing cards, hoping that Fate (or Chance) rewards me in the next moment with winning hand, with frameable scoresheet, proof of life.
6:04 a.m.: Choosing breakfast over writing, as always, turns into winning proposition, when self-conscious antics at keyboard churn out nothing but platitudes. Breakfast bars, holdover from bygone days of flower children and fiber kings such as Sylvester Graham [think graham crackers!], easy to nibble while staring at gleaming white eye.
8: 17 a.m.: Reposing with butt in chair [think Anne Lamott]. Writing not going well. I stare hard at mocking bright screen. Sunlight streams through slatted white blinds, throwing light-dark pattern onto floor, prison bars, I’d think, if I were lying chained in Plato’s cave.
9:46 a.m.: Reading prize-winning short story from old issue of literary journal – such turns of phrase, rich use of verbs, perfection on page [think thesaurus]. Discouraged. Click instead on round Chrome circle, yin with yang on LSD. I yawn at pessimistic CNN headlines and close down. Bullying screen still in mocking mode, taunting, “Bring it on.”
10:30 a.m.: Squirming, but butt still in chair. Five words now glow on screen: “Snapshot Moments, or, Cantus Firmus.” Monks, plain song, chant. Ideas fermenting, prancing in my head. Liturgy of the Hours [think Divine Office].
12 noon: Running out of steam. Growling stomach, dry eyes. Discipline. From Latin discipulus. Disciple [think pupil]. Punishment, too. Writing. Vulpine screen leers. Only 250 words. [Think Logos. Ora. Labora.]
(One of WordPress’s challenges – #everydayinspiration – provided the fodder for the last several posts on this blog.)