Today I felt off, somehow. Maybe I’m getting sick, maybe it’s just mental/emotional. I have a hard time understanding the way I’m feeling most of the time. Lately it’s seemed like I’m just not doing anything or accomplishing much. Too much watching tv and taking care of the house, and not enough living. Part of that is probably due to the cold snap we are just now coming out of. I hadn’t left the house in days, due to bad roads and just wanting to stay at home and hibernate.

This morning I felt like I had to do something different. So I went to Newcastle and picked up a library book I had on hold for book club, then went to Mustang to the community center gym. I walked on the indoor track for a half hour or so, with no music, no audio book, no podcast. Just me and my thoughts. My brain doesn’t seem to think as well as it used to, but maybe if I just force it to work instead of placating it with distractions, it will get better. I talked to myself some as I walked, about my books, about my plans, about my dreams. I talked about my current novel and wasn’t thrilled when I had a hard time remembering my protagonists’ names. But they did come to me after a minute.

I came to the conclusion that I need to try to write at night again. I have been telling myself for years that I need to write in the mornings. That I need to do it first thing, while my mind is the freshest. But in all honesty, I’ve done the majority of my writing at night in the past. I would take care of the house, and the kids, and whatever else, and then in the evening I would finally get time to myself and I would sit and write. I haven’t wanted to do that for a long time for various reasons…but I think that time is past now. If writing last night before bed worked for me before, I think I owe it to myself to try it again.

My mind might not be early morning fresh, but mornings are too difficult. There’s the question of breakfast, and emptying the dishwasher, and taking care of Mom’s breakfast and a dozen other little things. Then I start thinking about the things I need to do during the day. But at night none of those things matter. I’m done with my work for the day an I can relax and enjoy my writing.

So that’s what I did tonight. It’s been a long time since I worked on this, so I read what I had written before, doing some small edits and tweaks. Then I went ahead and wrote a paragraph about what was going to happen in the next two chapters. Which is great, because I wasn’t sure what was going to happen next. Now I know, and I can think about that tonight and tomorrow, and then hopefully knock out some real words tomorrow evening.

I prayed before I began, asking for help, and after, thanking God for how well it went. I want this book to be like my first, which I still feel like came directly from God – from Him to my measly brain. The idea was not mine, and the writing just poured out. I wrote that novel in a month. I’m praying for another download from God. Just something that feels like it’s writing itself. The new chapter outlines felt like that, so I’m optimistic.