Inevitably, at some point (possibly several) in a nonfiction project, I swear that it’s my last one, that it will be a long time before I let myself get swallowed up in research and endlessly sweat about getting the facts straight. I just want to make stuff up, I tell myself.
And, of course, here I am trying to just make stuff up for the critique pages I’ve got due at the end of the month. And guess what? It’s hard, too. My fingers fly across the keys in the evening when I write what you’re reading right now, but it’s a different story at 10 minutes past 5 in the morning, which is when I start doing my “real” writing.
I heard from a friend today that she uses her blog to warm up her brain for her manuscripts, whereas I’d been treating Bartography as dessert, something to be touched only after I’ve eaten my green beans. I like green beans, but you get the idea. Maybe I should treat my blog like my morning coffee — as a welcome, necessary jolt to get things moving.
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