You’d think that by deciding to participate at CampNano, and a goal of 30k, I would have been consistent and on time and totally up to this, but you’d think wrong. The funny thing is, I don’t mind.
I haven’t written in days so, like a writer committed to her writing, I sit down to write because it’s a thing that has to happen if I want to accomplish anything (like make writing my job *cough cough*), I open my document determinedly and I start writing.
At least, that’s what I’m saying to myself as I endlessly stare at the empty document willing it to life. When nothing works and the words don’t cooperate, I open tumblr because, you know, by scrolling down endlessly I might get an idea, or magically construct the sentence in my mind, or avoid any coherent thought over my story, or wish for the damned thing to finish on its own.
I like summer. I don’t love it, because the heat is unforgiving in Greece and – unfortunately- I don’t leave next to the sea. The opportunity to swim and stay in the water until my skin peels off and the salt cooks me under the burning sun is what makes summer tolerable. What I love, though, are specific parts of those months which I have connected with memories of my childhood and endless summers that meant only leisure and fun, like the cicadas being as loud as they can all day long, the silence at noon after lunch that stretches until early afternoon that is different from any silence in winter, and the long long days.
Procrastinating is something I’m an expert at.
Usually, in my desperation to avoid writing, I procrastinate so hard that I even clean my house, which – let me tell you – it’s a thing I’m not very fond of. Ever.
The thing is though, that sitting on my chair trying to motivate myself to write and failing miserably as I go from tumblr to twitter and from cat images to watching Leverage while I knit, isn’t always about procrastinating.