Writing on Demand is Never Easy

Writing on demand is not easy. Have you tried it?

Five hundred words a day or more is the requirement. All well and good when:
You have something to say
There are no interruptions
The phone is unplugged
Someone fed the dogs
There are no solicitors on your block
There is plenty of coffee
It is a gloomy day (although a little rain always is distracting to me here in Arizona)
You already finished reading the great book you started a couple days earlier
You are locked in your writing space
Your mind is hell-bent to complete the task at hand

Uh, how many words so far today, anyway?

Hmm, now do I just sit and ponder (x that out, use think), or start putting words on paper, hoping that some sense will come of it all? Back in the day, when I encouraged a class of students to “write,” I suggested they put down whatever came to mind, just to help them get started. But it doesn’t seem to be working for me.

I could discuss in some detail the disappointment that a friend passing through town won’t stay at my house, for fear of “displeasuring” me with his nocturnal habits. He says that at his age, he needs his thrice-nightly visit to the can, and a light on or off periodically during the night to read or reassess life, and/or a midnight or 2 a.m. smoke or two, or perhaps a shot of tequila. He’s afraid he’ll disturb the pooches as he slides through the door to the patio to indulge.

My arguments include the fact that his “suite” (always sound better than when you say “guest room”—I don’t have guests, only friends) is on the other side of the house. There is a separate bath. My dogs are old and don’t hear anything, so he wouldn’t disturb them. MY husband and I are fitful sleepers and potty-goers, too, but we have our own bath. Plus, we don’t hear so good either . . .

And I don’t want to plan things. If he’s here, we’ll just do them.

Ah. Well. We’ll see.

I believe there is a bit of “displeasuring” himself in all this, too. Twice a week I take care of (although better words than “take care of” might be adore or honor or idolize, as I can’t seem to get enough of my two grandsons) my boys. My is without children of his own, and has had his share of proverbial nieces and nephews, and perhaps can’t appreciate my maternal instincts.

Just let me show him!