Aaaahhhhh…it’s raining. Finally.
After no precipitation since Before Christ, it’s been nice the past few weeks to actually see water fall from the sky. And with it, the temperature. It’s delightfully cozy.
We writers love the rain. My friends and I often daydream of long, dreary autumn days with nothing to do but write and write and write.The idyllic image of the solitary writer pecking away at her typewriter, a steaming beverage at the ready, soothing music to guide the Muse as the words come strong and steady. All the while rain pitter-patters at the window pane.
The reality: my desk is a cluttered mess of mail to be sorted and rickety stacks of papers to be filed; sticky notes of
half-baked dialogue and plot points litter the area like the detritus of a ticker-tape parade; I can’t hear the music over the jarring knocking of my unbalanced washing machine; I’m working on a laptop that is sitting atop another laptop that itself is sitting atop a box of mail ordered clothes that need to be returned; and, my tea is cold.
But, the words are coming. Maybe not strong and steady, more slow and sporadic, but it’s better than a blank page. And the rain is pitter-pattering at the window pane…
I sigh with contentment.
Filed under: On Writing
I always long for that perfect writing space and in reality my desk is a big cluttered mess as well. Have you seen Something’s Gotta Give…I want Diane Keaton’s house and writing desk. That just looks lovely.
The rain’s gone, hope the words are still coming – though there is a chance of rain this week.