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Strawberry jelly and blissful chaos

There are days when sitting down to write the words takes three cups of coffee and a bagel spread with butter, crunchy peanut butter and homemade strawberry jelly. Other days it’s done with one cup of joe and barely an exhale.
Writing consistently becomes a habit, just like anything else, and if a day goes by I don’t pen a line or form a tweet, it makes writing the next day even harder. It’s a practice, a ritual, something that must be exercised to stay fluid.
What daily tasks do you perform with consistency? I know many wonderful people who take pride in their gardens, pruning and planting until the blooms are gloriously radiant. It takes discipline to keep those flowers thriving and not falling into disrepair in a bed full of weeds. Others don’t mind the weeds that bloom profusely, working from a place of blissful chaos.
I love the phrase blissful chaos because it describes most of my life. If you entered my home, you would believe I keep everything neat and clean, but look at my notes on the computer and you’d see a different story. Blissful chaos: It works.
But the words, they call me to the computer screen to tap and peck and form them into cohesion. I love the blind way I sit down, no topic in mind, and end up with something resembling worthwhile reading.
Readers, it’s said, make pretty good writers. Either that or they can be the annoying friend that uses an archaic or big word you look up in the dictionary. Guilty as charged. Big words pop into my head in conversation or while writing, and I can only thank incessant reading for that ability.
I’ve found it challenging to take on the task of writing nearly two books now, and I await them being published. I’m my own judge and jury as I type, poring over the words with a fine-tooth comb to weed out the janky ones. Just like a stubborn weed, I can see which words don’t fit and need to be dug out and discarded.
My first book is completed and awaits editing. I will welcome a fresh eye reading the paragraphs I’ve written, but I have labored over it for so long that letting it go into the light is giving me high anxiety. It’s not my story anyway, but it is one given to me to give life to. I don’t know many writers that send a love project out into the stratosphere that don’t just close their eyes and cross their fingers.
Consistency, that’s the thing. Sitting myself in a chair every single day and writing a paragraph or two makes me accountable to the thing I’m doing. It’s kind of like cooking, where you take a pan out and throw a handful of rice and seasonings in and voila: You’ve perfected something after 29 times of failing at it.
Cooking rice is the perfect example as it can be a stubborn grain to get just right, but when you practice, fail and keep getting that pan out, you’ll eventually conquer it.
Seventy-five-thousand words don’t happen overnight, but day by day they build up until voila: The book has been conquered. I’ll keep chewing the words up in my brain and spitting them out until the day my fingers can no longer type.

Published: May 12, 2017
New Article ID: 2017170519981