It’s ironic how venial distractions antagonize me while I’m trying to write. Gifted since a wee child with a keen sense of how to annoy others, I’m actually rather hawkish in protecting my own creative space. For example, the gentle rustling of a candy wrapper may provoke me to voice a sardonic remark. If I’m in mixed company and want to keep up appearances and avoid opprobrium, I may simply sound a hasty retreat to sulk in solitude.
In my sixth grade writing class, I was inculcated with Natalie Goldberg’s “writing mind” mantra that just ten minutes of uninterrupted writing will result in the emergence of the enemy of all that is trite: the unsullied utterance of authenticity. The trick is to keep the pen moving and “monkey mind”–that disruptive, second-guessing voice of doom–at bay.
Writing demands the abdication of procrastination: abandoning the trivial pursuits of scanning Facebook and other highly effective methods of nursing minutes and hours from the project at hand.
Just today, the printer ran the latest issue of Blackfriars, which I scrupulously edit as part of my work for that merry band of itinerant preachers so nicknamed. If you’re interested in perusing then you can find the digital version by clicking here.
Editor’s Note: I’m attempting (yet again) to study for the GRE. The words in bold are my vocabulary words for the day.