WARMUP:
12 minutes. On-demand story request from elder toddler. Composition must
feature both siblings alongside various IP characters—all from different
universes, frequently incompatible, in different combinations, permutations.
Cannot be prepared in advance due to ever-changing cast. Must be delivered extemporaneously
during drive to daycare regardless of weather, traffic, or hours of sleep acquired
during preceding night. Must be stored in accessible memory in the event that
reprise is requested on the way home.
PRACTICE,
PEAK: 3.5 hours. Salaried writing. Does not belong to me. Pleasant to do, often
stimulating/challenging, feeds family, but gets us no closer to the mountain.
BREAK:
One hour. On in-office days, scarf lunch quickly in order to walk/think or
read/study. On work-at-home days, research. Specifically, one episode of General
Hospital for analysis of consistent characterization (as when new actors take
over existing roles), slow-burn plot development (conflicts rising to crescendo
over weeks, months, years), and re-orienting audience with crucial details to
keep story moving (as when character returns from dead, encounters evil twin,
has memories implanted/erased, etc.). Intensely underrated writing and structure.
Observe.
PRACTICE,
PEAK: 3.5 hours. Still salaried. Non-fiction. Good for practice on hooks, storytelling,
suspense. Draining, but can’t complain.
BLACKOUT:
2.5 hours. Transit, family dinner, bedtime routines (not mine). Would trade
these hours for nothing, not one thing, except perhaps longer versions of said
hours.
PRACTICE,
OFF-PEAK: One hour, with exceptions, when all the magic has to happen or not at
all. Sometimes Writing In Silence for an Hour with a friend at a coffee shop,
more frequently tapping at pre-wifi desktop or wrapped in a quilt on the couch
with laptop humming, pair of baby monitors whispering at elbows. Chisel away at
novella hiding inside old novel draft, tinker with story met by latest
thanks-but-no-thanks. Off-peak hours also critical for running expensive household
appliances—laundry, dishes—general homesteading, maintaining key relationships,
social life, supplemental paid work. Find ways to incorporate all.
REFUEL:
Never enough hours. Reading and bed, or DuckTales and bed, if day’s news is particularly
upsetting. Gratitude for time carved out to write, study, think, any chance to
go to the story and live there for a while. Imagine each hour spent thusly acquiring
mass, becoming physical part of story as it grows, takes shape, escapes
containment. Keep making room.
A. L. Bishop is a writer from
Niagara Falls, Canada whose short fiction has appeared in The Writing Disorder, The
Forge, Exile: the Literary Quarterly
and Book Six of the Carter V. Cooper Short
Fiction Anthology Series. Learn more at albishopiswriting.com.
No comments:
Post a Comment