I sat down, got out all my writing guff, and wrote.
According to Hannah, the manager, I looked knackered. And, to be honest, I’m not sure if I was making a great deal of sense when I was talking to her. But that’s not the point, I had an empty enough head to write.
Jonathan: “I’m really hung over from that vodka.”
Ray: “Well, you gotta write something. I did my best work hung over. I have less brain cells to confuse the issue.”
Which gives me another avenue to try, should the writing before I’ve had the chance to think ever fail.
Actually, I think that’s it. Writing before I’ve had the chance to think. I have a plan; I have a start point, an end point, and some stops along the way. On Monday morning on walk to the coffee shop I in my head a vague plan as to what I was going to write; I had a starting point, a stop along the way that I needed to work toward, and a vague idea as to how I was going to get there. But when I actually began to write I started to find that the writing took on a life of it’s own, and that the characters were saying things and acting in a manner that I hadn’t I really planned. And, by the time I’d finished, I no longer had the scene that I’d sat down to write. Which is really quite exciting.