I asked them to ‘show me what you can do’ and this was the result. Their passion and enthusiasm made me laugh so hard that this is just about the only picture that isn’t blurred. They contorted and grinned and tried to do insanely crazy stunts involving each other, the grass and the odd bucket.
And no, I have no idea what the bucket would have been used for originally.
But it made me think about how much passion and enthusiasm I still carry around inside. I am totally, eternally crazy about words and what you can do with these little black squiggles on a page, a piece of paper or a screen. And yet I find myself not doing splits and cartwheels and performing tricks in my quest for eternal fame and unimaginable fortune as a writer slash linguist.
I kinda do it sedately, as though I was a bit more than a century old or weighed double what I do.
And no, my weight is not the issue here.
So, tomorrow being the first of April, I thought I would dig around inside myself and see what happened to my passion and all the crazy tricks I had inside.
I plan to take them out for a spin, and a cartwheel or two and maybe one or two splits.
And if I find a bucket … I might just use that as well!
Ask writers why they write, and you’ll get different responses, from the wide-eyed, slightly scary ‘Because it is like breathing … I cannot live without it’ to the more jaded, yet outrageously hopeful ‘To earn some extra cash’ with all varieties of ‘To cleanse myself’ or even ‘To get my writer mom off my back’ peppered in there.
Whatever the reasons, whatever the excuses, whatever the driving forces … one thing is clear: writing takes time. There seems to be a bit of a correlation between the time you spend writing and the quality of the writing. Where this isn’t true, there will still be a correlation between the time you spend writing and the quantity of drivel produced.
For freelance writers, finding time is what writer’s block is to full-time writers. Hard to overcome.
But there are bits of time that could be claimed. A few minutes on the loo, if nothing else. Maybe take the bus to work rather than driving – that should give you a solid chunk of time. Or stop visiting those friends who always want to moan and groan and sap your energy. Bypass them and find a quiet spot in a coffee shop or the library or the third rock away from the screaming crowd at the beach. Whatever works for you.