Now, for multiple choice. I've been:
A. On safari. With George Lucas. Discussing the script we're co-writing.
B. With Eminem. Learning about vocal styling. Drinking virgin pina coladas. Shooting hoops.
C. On my butt, in my pj's, writing as fast as I can.
One of the less glamorous parts of the writing life involves the actual WORK. I have to "get alone," and this past year I discovered that means I have to "get alone" in my head as well. The internet is where I go to play, relieve stress, and hear about your lives and pursuits. But it also creates mental noise and doubt and comparisons.
I've surrendered myself to this story, even when I'm unconscious. (Cray-cray dreams. About bird cages. Made of BONES.) It feels like the early days of drafting HOURGLASS, when I didn't know about The Twitter and it was just me and my Macbook, the world I'd created, lots of late nights, Billie Holiday, and coffee.
So the noise in my headspace right now involves caring for and loving on my family, errands when I have to leave my house, and occasionally these guys, who sound like I want my words to read:
Cheers, friends. I can't wait to connect with you again.