A Day In the Life of….

A writer? Who is a writer? Someone who writes and cannot imagine a life without the creative outlet of the written word and books. Writers write because they have to write and so, by default of an inner force, the writer is compelled to write. If you are a writer, you might know what I mean.

Many writers have day jobs, families, and interpersonal relationships that interfere with their writing. They might be working on their story, their poetry, their screenplay or their latest revisions in their head while they are doing other things, such as a house renovation, dancing, taking classes, going to court, or to therapy sessions. Many writers have other skills and interests besides writing.

My writing schedule varies according to the day in front of me. Most days, I wake up between the hours of 6 a.m. and 7 a.m. and my head is already full and ready to get to work. I lay in bed and collect my thoughts. My agenda to find time to capture my thoughts before they flee is often thwarted by other people’s demands and expectations. My partner is not a writer; he does not understand.

Relationships take work. Success takes work. Writers need a lot of encouragement and support to be successful writers. My partner works and does not spend his free time writing. He supports me in my pursuit of writing, although he doesn’t understand the frustration that can come with the territory of trying to find balance and time to pursue passions, interests, healing, and forgiveness for not being able to do everything fast enough, well enough, or focused enough.

“Good morning,” we tell each other. We have coffee and discuss our agendas.

“What’s on your schedule today?” he asks.

“What isn’t might be a better question,” I respond. “What would you like me to accomplish today?” While I speak I am plotting my next piece of creative work where my female character takes over the United States, holds everyone hostage in mandated classes, and brings in a New World Order by process of educating ignorant idiots in positions of power.

My partner and I are trying to turn an old farmhouse in Oregon into the Taj Mahal and I am the chief domestic engineer, tile setter, interior designer, interior decorator, grounds keeper, housekeeper, chef, and carpenter’s assistant and general gopher-girl extraordinaire.

Yesterday was hot, and after my writer’s support group in the morning, I came home and pulled some weeds in the afternoon heat, harvested some berries from our small berry patch, and made a couple of trips to Jerry’s Home Improvement Store for more materials. I used my time while out in public to practice some of my comedy routines and storytelling skills. I also worked on some of my poetry in the process of being pissy and irritable from working around unreasonable men and even more unreasonable women. I am certain I made an impression on the poor employees at Jerry’s.

“Well, if you could work on the walk-in shower, that would be nice. You’re almost done with it aren’t you?” He smiled. I groaned. I still had hours and hours of tedious, meticulous work to do on the shower. I had a love/hate relationship with that shower. I regretted ever beginning such a huge art project when there was an entire future world to renovate and put on paper before it was too late.

“Okay, I’ll make sure I spend a few hours today and keep plugging away at it. Just as soon as I get some of my writing done first.” My partner leaves for work. I make a mental note to shelve my character’s plans to torture everyone by shutting down the entire food chain of quasi fast-food restaurants beginning with McDonald’s, KFC, Taco Bell, and all the rest of the nutritionally void, calorie-packed, Monsanto GMO industrialized supply stations that might be one of the roots of all evil. The female character in my book is a brave woman and will definitely have to have body guards around her at all times to keep her from getting assassinated by the hordes of angry foodies that rise up in rebellion. People with unhealthy brains who are sick might not understand her love and concern for them as a Matriarchal Universal Mother.

I finish my morning writing and my coffee. I get up, get dressed, put on some Beatles music and make another mental note. I will make sure my character uses a silver hammer as a gavel in honor of the Beatles when her edicts to eradicate evil are put into place and carried out.



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Lorrance Herring

Lorrance Herring

Oregon born, Bardass Poet, Bat-Shit Crazy Stand-Up Comedian, Entertaining Social Activist, Mamadadaist Artist of 8 kids, Weirdo Wonder Woman, Narc Researcher