There are two things that some authors do–and do well–that have always eluded me.
- They write under the influence of drugs or alcohol.
- They write without an outline or plan.
In all my fifteen years of authoring I have never done either. Until right now. Right now I am doing both. That’s probably why I just used the word “authoring.”
You see, two weeks ago I had knee replacement surgery.
That’s why I haven’t blogged. I thought I’d keep it up from the hospital so I brought my laptop and a Marc Jacobs bag filled with good intentions. This coming from the girl who packs gym clothes on book tour, but never works out. The same girl who used to bring homework on family vacations thinking she’d do it on the airplane. I know. I know.
Now it’s week three and I’m at home feeling like a piñata full of pain meds. Yep. I’m tingly and spacey and drowsy. I’ve watched so many episodes of The Good Wife I’m about to open my own law practice. There are gluten-free pizza crumbs in my bra. But I refuse to let another week go by without staying in touch. So this is me, writing under the influence. It’s also me without a point, a plan, or anything meaningful to say. Usually, when I’m authoring I work off very detailed outlines. I can not, will not, let the muse drive. And yet, here she is, one hand on the wheel, the other hanging from the open window. Stereo blasting. Destination: Who the hell knows?
I tried to think of a good topic. Maybe share some of my experiences from the hospital. But come on, what a snoozer-downer, right? The whole trying to think of something reminds me of those times when I stand in front of my open closet and try to pick an outfit, but nothing jumps out. In fact, it all blurs together and looks like Lucky Charms barf. So I end up wearing sweats and I regret it all day because I feel frumpy and thick.
So here I am. A pain med piñata riding shotgun with a directionless muse. My respect cup runneth over for those authors who can do this and make something of it. Clearly, I can not.