I can begin on a Monday morning with my usual hypothesis that if I spend three hours per weekday free-writing that by Friday afternoon at-least-one unacceptable (i.e. well researched/well crafted) chapter will be ready to send along to my editor. Of course, some times this assumption is blown right out of the water long before I find myself at hump-day (Wednesday), which means I find myself regrouping and even tossing a few poison-eye-darts at the family I so dearly love — well, I love them except when “interference” is so great that the result is hypotheses strangulation. I know that my mother is 87 and needs ‘a lot of attention’ to matters like sweater drawer straightening up & locating her mother’s bobby-pins (that I inadvertently tossed out five years ago) but honestly — doth not she see? — she can be a writers worst friend. Love you Mom!
This Monday I have begun again . . . thus far I have driven one son (round trip 1.25 hours) to his roofing job location and done a variety of other non-related to writing activities and have managed to do this
paid post so maybe my hypothesis needs additional hypothesizing — i.e. the assumption that if I shut my door weekday mornings from eight to eleven and post a sign “working/respectfully do not disturb” and pretend that I am that awful man (Jack Nicholson) in “As Good As It Gets” — “not even if you smell a stench that only means that rotting flesh…..not even then do you knock on this door” my original hypothesizing might be more than a hypothesis. One can try. One can hope. One can dream, can’t one?
As for the quote to the left of this text all I can say is:
Well, Mr. Ward …. I beg your pardon but it seems that on Monday I imagine it, by Wednesday I’m dreaming it but on Friday I have neither achieved it or become it!