I have to establish some form of self-discipline or this book will never even make it to first rough draft stage.
I guess I should be glad for every little dribble and drip of inspiration allotted to me, but I'll always envy the prolific, disciplined writers who spend hours at a time actually producing readable prose.
When I was a teenager, I read an article in Writer's Digest (yes, I had a subscription) where the author proclaimed he'd sit for EIGHT HOURS, staring at a blank sheet of typing paper, waiting for inspiration.
That would just drive me stir-crazy.
Inspiration is such a sporadic, spontaneous thing--at least for me. Who knows when the Muses will strike? I'll be drifting off to sleep and BAM! A beautifully-worded description of a character will come to mind. "I'll remember it in the morning," I think to myself. Nope. If I don't jot it down right then, it's lost to the vapors of obscurity forever.
Example; years ago, while scraping the remnants of strawberry frozen yogurt from a Styrofoam cup with a plastic spoon, the perfect--and I mean perfect-- description of the sound came to mind. I was so tickled with myself, but this was before the days of cell phones and I didn't have even a pen and paper on me, so it dissipated like morning dew before I had a chance to record it.
That's painful for a writer.
Now I am older (lots) and wiser (sort of). I've decided I need to establish some discipline, so that's what I'm going to attempt. Mornings are my most productive time, so I'm going to designate my early hours to SOME form of writing, even if it's just blogging.
So, armed with my coffee, lit candle and tiara plotting cap balanced on my head, I'm going to attempt communion with the Muses every morning, whether I feel like cooperating or not!