Writer-girl Diaries: it's not you, it's me.
'It's not you, it's me,' I said. 'Another time, another place and maybe this will work.'
'I think you're awesome,' I said and really, I meant it, because this was going to my next book, I LOVED and still do love the title, I loved the premise, I loved it's swag. But every time we got intimate, my thoughts were elsewhere, thinking of another.
Another book idea.
What can I say? I'm fickle.
So, I'm flirting with the idea, and as Sunday's a new moon, I'm going to date it. I'm going to write in tune with the moon cycle, with no commitment to the outcome, I feel terribly Parisian about it.
I'm taking book ideas as lovers.
I'm going to write, I'm going to riff, I'm going to flow with words and let go of the how. I won't worry if this is the 'one', I'll simply dance, make out and enjoy the process. I'll see what develops. I'll be in the moment.
I got asked last week if I could do a 'write a book in 90 days programme'. That was such an easy 'no' for me. I am NOT a 'write a book in 90 days' kind o' girl. Who wants that kind o' commitment? I'm a pleasure seeker, I ADORE the writing process, I want long luxurious soaks in the bath with words and images, I want to be endlessly surprised by what word magick happens when I sit still long enough for the endless chatter in my head to shut the fuck up and for my truth to spill from my heart.
Don't be in a rush to commit words to paper, ideas to books.
Flirt with them a little, let them delight you, let them whisper sweet nothings in your ear at inappropriate times.
Then fall in lust and passion as quickly and as hard as possible. Don't be scared to hand yourself over to romancing when finding the right idea, fully immerse yourself naked, find what feels good and what sings to your sweet soul.
You may date for a week, you may date for a year or two, whether it's going to be 'the one', the hold-in-your-hand book o' wonder is completely irrelevant right now, what matters is that you find pleasure in the process. So excuse me while I make like a Parisian, take lovers and squeal in complete pleasure and delight as I allow myself to be absolutely, positively seduced by the art o' wordplay.