‘Maybe sometimes – the wrong way is the right way?’
[From: The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt, Great Britain 2013]
Some days days the writing just flows and I feel like I never want to stop.
Some days every sentence, every word even is like climbing a mountain on ski skins and it all seems horribly wrong.
I used to get quite frustrated, even give up, but –
and this is where I can happily add that here, I really think that age is actually a benefit –
since I know that there are good days and bad days, well I just let the creative process take its course, I mean there must be a reason for this happening, right?
In fact I’ve found that on the slow days, a lot of thinking’s going on, active thinking where I process each word, each thought. In the end I’m actually surprised that even after a tough word for word writing day, one whole page and then another appear and maybe its only a 1000 word day but how did I get from that sentence to those full pages?
It’s like climbing that mountain step by step, no rush possible, for fear of a heart-attack (this is where age is possibly not such a benefit) and without a clue of how I’m going to make it. Then, suddenly I’m there, on top of the world looking down, across an endless stream of mountains all going off in different directions. In writing terms I see a layout of new possibilities that I can see rolled out in front of me and suddenly it all makes sense.