Today is one of those days where blank pages intimidate me, but somehow, no matter how fervently my fingers slam against the keyboard, the words just aren’t up to standard. These are also the days where everything is more interesting than the screen, from the single leaf that managed to escape being covered with snow to the little speck of fibre that vibrates when the heating turns on, but remains stuck on the corner of the desk.
I’m not exactly uninspired, though my levels of inspiration aren’t that high either.
This isn’t writer’s block. I don’t even fully believe in writer’s block, if we’re being honest. In my experience, getting my ass in the chair and forcing myself to work, always offers results. I consider writing to be my job and, like any other job, if I don’t do the work, I’ll get fired (AKA never be published). My husband doesn’t stay at home when he doesn’t feel like going to work, so I don’t not-write when I don’t want to write.
This post doesn’t have any real point. Except maybe this. Some days, we’re all like that blank page – boring, probably tired as hell, the same old background drone, flavourless.
And maybe, just maybe, that’s okay.
Tomorrow, I’ll know that the unachievable standard I set for myself today was stupid. Even Tolkien’s best writing needed editing, so little old Yolandie – lacking the years of experience he had – certainly won’t write perfection either. Tomorrow, I’ll probably see that the stuff I force myself to write today isn’t half bad. It might be a little rough, but could be good with some polishing. Tomorrow, I’ll hopefully be kind to myself, and maybe even remember that this is a one-step-at-a-time kind of journey. Nobody sprints up Everest, after all.
More than anything else though, I feel great when I get at least some work done on days like today. When I end that last sentence, the sense of achievement leaves me recharged. Like pigment being slowly stirred into white paint, my blank day offers a colourful result, which means I start tomorrow with an advantage.
For me, this very public pep talk has already started to add some flavour to my day. I’ve turned my back on the snowless leaf, and I’ve wiped away the dancing fibre. Now, it’s time to stop moping and get to work.