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Impulse

My impulse comes with iPad, espresso, and old-fashioned pen-and-paper
Writing is a romantic pursuit - at least, according to the literature and the biographies of the great authors. The idea of a bolt of lightning striking someone with the ability to produce volumes of prose that captures the secrets of the human experience - it's a wonderful dream (and brings to mind Xanadu, which was an aside in work emails last week). Sometimes, that dream comes true, when the impulse to write manifests in a feeling or motivation to capture story ideas, characters, plots, or quotable passages that are worthy of preservation.

Most of the time, however, writing is work. So much so that the work, drudgery really, is the the majority of what constitutes writer's journals, notes, and manuscripts. Buried in the pile of hard drives, papers, and words can be the next great American novel - but is mostly proverbial chain-yanks to start the motor of creativity.

On a rainy morning, I start the week with an impulse to generate story ideas which will unfortunately go unstoked - my work is beckoning and showering my day like the light rain falling outside. But I take a small break to capture the moment and remind myself that there is much drudgery left to do for the next story to emerge.
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