|Maybe I should just write about vampires who love S&M sex with teenage girls?|
As some of you know, I've been trying to put together a book. By 'put together' I mean I am writing it from scratch. While I was in Nashville I did some of my best writing. Since then, though, that Dell laptop died and took the harddrive down hard. It is stone cold dead. Nothing can be recovered from it. All of that writing, the best I've done so far, is gone. My only option for getting it back is to pay over $1000 to someone so they can attempt a long, highly complex process to read just the platter. Problem is, my house is under attack and is costing me every penny I have. Thus, $1000 or more to attempt a hard disk recovery simply isn't feasible. So I wonder, why did I write better while I was in Nashville?
Possibility number one: I was completely alone. I sat in a tiny motel room 5 nights per week with a TV that had few channels, a lousy internet connection, some James Bond books I was reading, and a really ugly carpet. There wasn't much else to do except blog or write. Perhaps being in a strange place inspired more creativity? Perhaps being isolated was the key?
Possibility number two: I was going to Nashville writer's group meetings at least once per week. Sometimes I went to more than one. Some of the writers in those groups were exceptionally talented and made me aware of areas where I needed to improve. Maybe I tried harder?
Possibility number three: I was just SO incredibly bored. It was SO COLD outside the entire time I was in Nashville, below zero every single night, and going outside was extremely unpleasant. I've never been that cold before in all of my life. I swear, it felt like I had spent 2 months in Montana or North Dakota or something. God it was cold. Maybe the change of scenery, being in a strange place, being isolated, feeling inspired to work harder by better writers than myself, and freezing my ass of if I ever left the motel room all worked together to create the perfect writing conditions for me?
I don't know the answer. All I know is that I am now trying to rewrite this damn story for the millionth time. My computer is now perpetually hooked up to the cloud where every word I type is backed up. And yet the words I'm typing just don't seem as good to me, not like the work I did in Nashville. This is very frustrating. And more than a little discouraging.
So, on a lighter note, this morning I was out in the front yard when I heard the sounds of a horrific fart. And then a little fart. And then another horrific fart. I turned around to find my little girlie cat, Tazzie, having a shit storm on my front lawn. I can honestly say I have never heard a cat fart like that before. Wow! And then she didn't bury any of it. She just ran off like a bank robber.