When once the itch of literature comes over a man, nothing can cure it but the scratching of a pen. But if you have not a pen, I suppose you must scratch any way you can. – Samuel Lover, Handy Andy, 1842
As sleepy silence falls over the rest of the house, I find myself contemplating the lot of part-time writers, ‘hobby’ writers – those who must contend with a day-job and/or waiting for the kids to finally rest their noisy, demanding heads before stealing precious ‘me time’ to play with words.
The day finally over, we throw ourselves in front of these glowing screens with relief, revelling in the silence and the freedom, finally, to write without distraction. Well, except for the occasional chat with another night-owl or perhaps a friend who has just leapt out of bed on the daylight side of the world. Maybe a quick break for a cup of tea and a biscuit or seven; or a fossick for that bag of chocolate freckles at the back of the freezer. But that’s all part of the creative process.
My point is, we all persist in writing whether we have the time to or not. If ‘not’, we do it anyway, sacrificing rest and enduring the early morning joie de vivre of all-night sleepers with stoicism, mostly, and recognition that this is the price we must pay for what we do.
And I say to all my fellow ‘write-owls’ – bravo! (yawn)
(*I don’t care what anyone says, I like to begin a sentence with a conjunction now and again. It’s all part of the ‘flow’.)