Huh. So this is what relaxation is like? I like it.

Last night I played a little bit of LOTRO. I haven’t played any computer games for months and months. I have had no time. I’ve spent so much of my energy lately into writing (and all the facets that go into that) I have had no time for anything else.

It’s hurt me, I think. I have been so focused on writing I have lost track of other things and been unable to relax. It took an hour and a half of online gaming last night to make me realize that. For 90 minutes I didn’t have to think about writing, or marketing, or publishing, or editing, or story content, or…well, you get the idea. I could just put it all behind me and relax.

It was kind of nice. Maybe I should make Sunday night a regular thing to play some online stuff if for no other reason than to get my mind off all this writing stuff that, let’s face it, is beginning to feel like an anchor around my neck.

Other writers know what I mean. We get to a point, it seems, where everything we do is related to writing. I can’t remember the last time I read something for pleasure. No matter what I read I am always approaching it as a writer and wondering why the person used this tone, or did this certain thing with the characters and whatnot. I read critically, but I very rarely read for pleasure anymore. I miss that. I miss that a lot.

So that’s why I enjoyed my little time playing my Hobbit character Wobblefoot on LOTRO last night. Just messing around, not doing anything specific, but being able to put all the writing concerns on the back burner and get away mentally and physically.

I guess the trick is if I will remember to do this in the future or will I get stuck back in a writing rut and let the anchor drag me down farther….?

Advertisements

Another Conversation with Story: When the bloom fades from the rose

Me: This is pure drudgery.

Story: I love you, too.

Me: Hey, it’s no bed of roses here, either, smart guy.

Story: Where’s the love? The love. That’s all I ask. I look around and I don’t see it.

Me: I was in love with you when we first started. Now I’m ready to get it over with. Can you imagine how happy I’ll be when I finish the last sentence and type out “The End”?

Story: You really know how to sweet talk a person. I feel so special now. I think I might break into song.

Me: You’re not a person, you’re a story. A thing.

Story: That’s funny because I feel like a  person.

Me: That’s because I wrote you that way.

Story: Ooh, big man. What a big smart man you are. Let me tip my hat to you, Mr. Big Man, for my existence.

Me: I could always hit the Delete key.

Story: You won’t do that. Anyway, you have me saved on a memory stick over there. So, yeah, go stick it in your memory for all I care.

Me: I’m not sure how to take that.

Story: Want me to draw you a picture? Hey, watch that comma!

Me: I thought writing was supposed to be fun? This is work.

Story: Fun? Who sold you that drool? Writing is work. Hard work at that. Especially if you want to do it right. Hey watch it, genius, you don’t need an adverb there!

Me: Sorry.

Story: That hurt. How do you think you can fit something like that in there and not have it hurt?

Me: I took it out. You know, someday I’ll finish this story and I’ll be able to get on with my life. Maybe I’ll go visit the dentist. I bet that would be way more fun than this.

Story: I’m counting the seconds myself, pal, when we part ways forever. Don’t you worry about that.

Me: Well it can’t come too soon for me.

Story: Same here. The sooner I scram out of here the better off I’ll be.

Me: Well, it won’t end too soon for me, that’s all I’m saying. Why I…hey, what do you know. I’m finished. You’re finished.

Story: Hey, what do you know. Wow. I…I have to admit I feel pretty good.

Me: Yeah, I think you look okay. You turned out pretty well after all.

Story: Yeah. Well, thanks.

Me: No problem. I’ll let you sit here a while and then I’ll come back to take another fresh look at you.

Story: Oh. Okay. All right, then.

Me: What’s wrong now?

Story: Well, I…I mean…well…you’re going to come back. That’s what you said. Aren’t you?

Me: I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe I’ll start a new story and forget all about you.

Story: Come on, no kidding around here. Will you? Come back, I mean.

Me: Of course I will. You know I will.

Story: Thanks. I…well, thanks. I guess that’s all I meant to say.

Me: Hey, don’t be that way. What’s wrong?

Story: You still like me, right? I mean, just a little bit?

Me: I love you, you big silly. I created you.  Of course I love you. That will never change.

Story: Thanks. I love you too. Aww, look at that, you made me blush.

Me: How can you tell?

Story: I felt my hyphens wiggle.

No matter how tired you get of the story, when you finish it you will feel a sense of deep accomplishment.

%d bloggers like this: