By Annette Dashofy
Yesterday, as I stared at a blank computer screen, struggling to come up with a topic for today’s post, I decided to cheat. I threw it out to my Facebook friends, asking them what I should write. The result? Work vs. Spring.
Yes, after a very long, very cold winter, spring has sprung in southwestern Pennsylvania. Instead of record-breaking snowfalls, we’re now having record-breaking high temperatures. High 80s in early April? Hey, we deserve it.
But with sunshine and warm breezes calling to us, do we give in and head outside? Or apply some of that bum glue and stay planted in our chairs at our computers, hammering out prose?
I have to admit… After months of staring outside at several feet of white snow and stark gray, naked trees, the idea of staying INSIDE staring at black Times New Roman print on a white screen can’t compete with green grass, yellow daffodils and forsythia, and pink magnolias.
Yes, we must be professional about our writing. We must put in the hours at the computer and produce the work.
But… Don’t we need to refill the well? Don’t we need to experience life to write about it? Don’t we need to clear the cobwebs with a long, meditative walk?
Okay, call it rationalizing if you will. However, I feel a need to take advantage of a glorious, sunny day in April after being cooped up in my cave all winter long. It doesn’t mean I’m not working. I can solve all sorts of plot issues while out walking. I can observe all the sensual details of the sun on my face and the warm wind on my skin and USE that in my story.
And isn’t there a cliché about all work and no play?
So instead of reminding everyone to keep writing even when the weather turns nice, I’m going to encourage everyone to seek balance. Don’t miss out on the sunshine (didn’t I hear we only get about 100 days of sunshine a year in this part of the world? No wonder it feels so glorious.) But don’t get so wrapped up in spring fever that you stop writing completely.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going for a walk. It’s supposed to rain tomorrow. There’ll be plenty of time to write then.