Preemptive Retaliation

I haven’t written anything in weeks, really. I have plans for things, great plans, but I never take the time to follow them through. Or, what’s more likely, I find something that has more importance and focus on that instead; like seeing people, or working on open uni projects, or playing videogames. Lots of videogames.

If I’m going to give myself an excuse, I’d say that currently my computer is set up in the living room. I made the stupidly awesome decision of getting a VR headset and I put it and my computer in the living room while I made enough space in the spare room. In the mean time, Anna discovered that she likes playing VR games and so the headset, with computer in tow, are remaining in the living room for the time being. We have adapted to life without a coffee table. We eat our food on the floor now, like animals who own ridiculously incredible technology.

Because of all this I have a desk that I can sit at but not a desk that I can sit and write at. Sure, I can pick up a notebook, or even hammer away on my typewriter, but I can’t get into the same flow unless I have a keyboard in front of me. My fingers flow better on it.

But that’s not a real excuse. I haven’t written anything properly for a while before that. I think the problem is Editing (given a capital E to highlight its intimidating Importance (note the capital I)). The major projects I have right now are written, to an extent, and all they need is the harsh hand of Editing. Editing is the devil that haunts the details, where I suddenly have to care whether or not my sentences make any sense, that my characters are consistent and, at the very least, things are properly spelled.

And, as we know, I really need to focus on that spelling thing…

Writing is fun. It just is. When my fingers hit a rhythm and I start to type faster than I can think, I feel like I’m gliding across the keyboard, and each word is coming out so easy and perfect, and I feel like I’m in the zone and my face looks like Jimmy Page’s does when he’s playing Stairway to Heaven and he’s just in absolute awe of what he can do and what he’s creating, and it’s fun and cathartic and beautiful and fun, so much fun. 

Editing is not fun.

But the problem is that it’s Important, if I want to be a capital-W Writer I need to learn to Edit, and not play videogames, and hone down my writing like a piece of driftwood sanded down into a tool. I keep telling myself it’s part of the process, and that I need it, I do need it, in order to be the best I can. But, man, videogames.