Woes of a Writer’s wife
You’ll say, “Get some eggs”
He’ll say, “Sure”.
You might think he listened.
In his mind’s eye, galaxies were being created with orange-eyed aliens who ate up suns coupled with thoughts raining down as idioms.
So, he’ll bring frog’s legs instead!
But what if the writer’s wife is also a writer? She’ll understand and order takeout instead.
Writing is addictive. Even when you aren’t writing, you are probably thinking of what to write next. Or you are in your own world, creating other worlds. And just because we gifted ourselves with a second 24-hour job, the ideas don’t stop coming. The need to write doesn’t seize to exist.
That brings me to ponder upon why I need to write. The most prominent reason that surfaces is that I have so much to tell, but I say it better on ‘paper'(more on that later) than when I talk. Also, it is my cathartic process. As a new mom, I have not been able to find the time, energy or the mind space to fetch the laptop, log in and write in the last few weeks. So I went ahead and bought myself a notepad(not the laptop or phone version: an actual book) and fished out a pen and I thought I was set. That’s when the real trouble began.
There I was writing down a short poem and found myself searching frantically for the delete or backspace or whatever button there is at the top corner of the keyboard every 2 seconds. That’s when I realized I had long forgotten how to write on paper. Well, it was alright as long as I was free writing. But what do you do when your musings take the form of a poem or your thoughts change mid-way through a sentence? You want to replace a word or use a more appropriate phrase: what do you do then?
It actually took me a few moments of shabby incomprehensible work followed by a whole thought process through the history of writing to figure out the obvious: Oh what did the ancients do? Before the advent of the laptop? Ah! Those desktop computers. Before that? Oh yes, haven’t we all seen many movies of wannabe authors punching furiously into their typewriters only to get frustrated, scrunch up page after page and become professionals at tossing paper into the dustbin? I have truly learned to appreciate the sheer effort involved in writing when you cannot immediately edit: no wonder writers were recluses. Moving prehistoric. Pen? Ha! At last, it dawned on me, and I promptly fished out the pencil and eraser from my kid’s box. Seems like lack of sleep and (old age) had shielded my eyes from something so obvious.
Since then, I have used the smartphone for jotting down points. I have written in my brand new gratitude journal. And have penciled my essays and poems. I have a stock of ideas waiting to be written on the blog. Until then, paper has to do. Because writing has become an addiction I can’t seem to live without.
I applaud my school self who managed to write 3-4 page essays on paper, I don’t think I can do it now. When was the last time you wrote a whole piece on paper? Do you agree with me that it is a forgotten art?
In other news:
Do you feel that you have written an awesome post, but it hasn’t got the views and comments that it deserves? Would you like to resurrect some of your old favorite writings? Stay tuned for some exciting news. Follow me and my partner in crime LERT on twitter for updates.
Also, I am really happy that my last week’s post on Becoming a mother for the second time is the featured post on #mg’s blog. Yippee!!:)
Linking up again to #mg this week