I was sailing down the interstate last week and a story came to me. I tried to fight it. After all, I’ve got this gem of a frigging novel sitting at home, still unfinished, after half a decade. I don’t need to start a new book. I need to finish an old one.
I pushed it away, but like a hungry mouse at the Kraft factory, it kept coming back .
Before I knew it, an hour later, I was home and I had written the first chapter in my head. I didn’t even remember the drive home, which is pretty effing scary. So, I ran inside, and I started scribbling down the outline for this book. The characters, the plot, the opening paragraph for the sequel.
Hubs and I went on a date last night. After consuming the ass end of a cow, and more potatoes than Scarlett O’Hara, I told him I was ready to go home. I didn’t want to shop, I didn’t want to watch goobers drink coffee at Starbucks. I wanted to go home and write.
And that’s exactly what I did. I wrote for hours. The words just came to me, flowing onto the paper, like a paper trained puppy with diarrhea.
When I say hours, I don’t mean 120 minutes. I mean an entire work shift, for people who, well, work. Hours. Freaking hours.
After all my years of late night writing, I know when my stopping point arrives. I begin to feel deliriously drunk. Without consuming a single drop of alcohol, I really feel drunk. My words turn into rambles, my head spins, I have imaginary conversations with Cybil Shepherd. I know I should go to bed.
Oh, and I spill things. And I begin talking to myself. Out loud.
However, I wasn’t ready for bed. I was on a drunken high. And what does any normal person do at 3 am when they are wasted? They get on Facebook. Naturally.
Before I knew it, I was typing incoherent shit on people’s walls, posting pictures from the nineties. I was commenting on people’s photos. I wasn’t typing the comments, but rather, I was saying them. Out loud.
“That dress makes you look like a douche balloon.”
“That’s your 87th photo of your dinner this week.”
“That’s hilarious,” I would say, straight faced, producing no laugh.
I told myself, “Susannah, you need to go to bed.”
So, I went to bed.
No, actually I first shuffled around the house, in the dark, looking for my cell phone for 3 minutes. You might think 3 minutes is an incredibly short amount of time. It isn’t when you are shuffling around in the dark looking for something that has been in your hand the entire time.
So, I checked on my kids and crawled into bed. Husband was comatose. I was so exhausted, but I just couldn’t turn off my mind. What would happen next in my story? Would she kill him? Would she hide in an alley? Would the Libyans find her bottle of 1987 Charlie perfume?
So, I got up. I said to myself, out loud, “Susannah, go back to bed.”
But, I seldom take my own advice.
I’m just thrilled to be writing again.
Watch this video for a clearer image. This WAS me.
You’re a joy to read, honestly, I have a really good time as you create your scenes. I feel like I’m there watching, not just having you tell me about it. And I mean that in the non-creepiest way possible!
Thanks so much! Totally not creepy!!
I so glad to see you back at it too!
I know what you mean about staying up late….kinda makes one silly!
Yes it does, thank you!
Yes! I can relate to all of the crazy. I get upset when I’m like “I’m going to bed” then I check my phone. Then I’m still up and check again and nobody has any good updates after midnight. Boo!
But yay for writing!
Nothing good after midnight. I check my phone like a frigging lunatic.
That’s awesome! I am quite jealous by your poofs of magical inspiration that pop into your head like they did for JK Rawling and that bitch that wrote the 50 shades books….u know those two are both quite successful;)
Oh, that ignorant bitch with her “oh mys”
Yeah, a writing jag. Now where can I get one?
No idea. But, Ive waited on this one for years, and I’m not sharing!! Good luck 🙂
Lovely post. I love that feeling of having the words tumble out so fast you can’t keep up. I just wish it happened to me more often and included less use of the word ‘fu*k’.
I do, too. I can never seem to stop those f-bombs from tumbling forth, though.
That must feel amazing to get back at writing again! Good for you!
P.S. I love the faux-drunk facebooking! Haha!(Not said with a straight face at all, fyi.)
Awesome post!
oh yeah you take after your mama alright. I was writing a song in my head night before last just after the lights were out but the light in my mind would not go out. I kept on checking the clock and surprised to see over an hour had gone by. I knew the only way to shut my mind off and stop writing in my head was to go eat peanut butter and crackers and chocolate milk that always makes me sleep better. I went back to bed and the damn song still would not go away.Within the next hour i drifted off to sleep and now 2 days later the song remains the same, unfinished.
I honestly could see you wondering around your house…..bahahaha. You always give me a good laugh. Then my husband looks at me and says, what is so funny? I say you would not understand.
Summer