Monday, 21 January 2013

The Everyday

The Everyday is not very exciting. Almost by definition, the Everyday is dull.  New Year resolutions founder because we secretly want to be Cinderella, transformed by the wave of a magic wand into a perfect version of ourselves. Failing that, we settle for the Rubbish Self that deals with crap Mondays, eating chocolate or swigging caffeine to get by. (Or is that just me?)

In writing terms, this means that it's exciting to be writing a novel for about twenty minutes. For that period of time, you can be a Novelist. Your Novel, unwritten, is a work of genius. Your ideas, while they are in your head, are blindingly original. You might even feel slightly sorry for the people who aren't writing your novel, who don't have your brilliant mind.

After twenty minutes, the rot sets in. Writing becomes a chore. You have to earn the feeling of excitement, the giddy arrogance, the thrill. And it takes hours and hours and hours. Every day.

So my New Year's Resolution, in spite of having a massive hangover on January 1st, wasn't to stop drinking, or lose a stone or take up zumba dancing. It was just that I would write for at least 20 minutes, in my journal, every day. And on day 21, I have managed to do this. Every day. Still completely imperfect in every other way, of course, and the stuff I've written isn't literature or genius, but it's really helped. So that's pretty good.