Yesterday was a writing day for me. I made better choices about my time. I let temptations slide by the wayside. And I found inspiration in an unlikely place...
The body of a recreational diver was found in Lake Tahoe after it had gone missing for 17 years. Apparently there was an equipment malfunction, and the diver sank to the bottom. His diving partner was out of air, and when he went back to find him, he was gone. It got me thinking about the guy who was out of air...what kind of person he would be after living through something like that. And...what kind of things this discovery would make him feel and do.
I thought to myself, "Someone should write a story about that."
And then I thought, "Why let someone else do that?!" And I started. I finished the story sometime after 8PM...after working off and on all day. And...I feel good about it. I feel like it's solid. It says what I want it to say, and it explores the kinds of themes and whatnot that I wanted it to explore.
At one point, I looked down at the word count and went, "Holy crap...that's the most I've ever written in one day! And I've written novels in a month." Seriously. Over 6,000 words.
I feel good.
And no matter how much I wanted to play video games all day, it felt so much better to sit at the keyboard and put words on paper. Why can't I always remember that?