My writing routine is my own brand of unique. I’m very easy to please, actually. All I need is an industrial fan and my dog. No, I know this sounds like a bad reality show prank, but there are actual reasons for both.
Getting the time to write is actually the hardest part. Some days it feels like I need the fedora and whip of Indiana Jones in order to fight the good fight so I can sit in front of a computer for more than two minutes. But when the gods smile and I do succeed, I have to immediately turn on the huge fan that sits in the corner of the office. I lived in a big city for a long time and I’m used to the world’s noise. Although I love the blissful silence of the desert, I still need something repetitive so I can relax and listen to my own head. Some people choose music, I need the fan.
Unfortunately, I also only need that noise. If anything’s speaking – people, the cat, the television, the radio – I can’t write a word. I actually do need to be trapped inside this crazed mind I have to be able to hear all the characters in my head. I know, soon there will be rubber walls on the room around me, but I really do need my brain to concentrate on the story, see the landscape, and step into the world where my characters live and far away from my own.
Needing the dog would seem to be odd, going against the whole ‘quiet’ rule. My dog, however, is a huge rhinoceros of a gentle beast who spends most all his time lying beside me wherever I happen to be sitting. He is the best editor in the world. I can bounce ideas off him and he looks really interested. His eyes get wide, his ears stand up straight (well…one does) and he cocks his head to the side. He’s either liking the path I’m taking with my characters, or he simply believes that every word in the English language means ‘treat.’
He breathes slowly and evenly, blending with the fan perfectly. With the exception of the UPS man stopping by, it’s the perfect relationship. When that brown truck with the horrific brakes pulls up (I swear it’s got to be a rule that all UPS trucks sound like a dolphin is screaming for it’s life between the tires), my dog has a tendency to let out a bellow without giving any pre-warning whatsoever. If I’m typing when that occurs, my heart stops, and whatever I haven’t saved ends up deleted when I fall forward from shock and land on the keyboard. Other than that, my dog is the perfect writing partner and I’m completely lost without him.
So…Fan on, check. Hair blowing like I’m caught in a jet engine, check. Reuben, the canine grizzly, fed, watered, and sleeping soundly just waiting for that one harsh squeak that will allow him his exercise for the day, check. Only then can the writing begin.
Although I do not live at the local Starbucks, my coffee pot is always on and the cup is always full. Except for when UPS arrives and I end up wearing the coffee. I really do hate that. As all of you know, once a keyboard’s sticky there’s just no fixing it.
Until Next Time, Everybody.