I’m in a rut—at least when it comes to this blog. As hard as I try, I can’t think of anything to write about. Perhaps it’s the heat, or that I’m buried in manuscript editing, or that I can’t think straight when my six-year old is loudly calling her make-believe dog . . .
Or maybe I need to take a hint from my daughter and stretch my imagination.
I think it was Anne Lamott in Bird by Bird who said that when writers say they’re “blocked” they’re really empty, and need to get out and fill back up again. (I’d check the quote, but I’ve only got five minutes to write this thing: if it was someone else, I apologize.) Another metaphor is stretching: just like an athlete needs to stretch before competing, an artist needs to stretch before creating.
I’m a musician and I would never perform without warming up first. It’s the same thing.
So I’m going to put the manuscript away for a few hours. I’m also going to put this blog aside, and get off the Internet. I’m going to eat lunch, and then go out with Anna and have a fun afternoon. I’m going to fill up my soul with joy. I’m going to stretch my imagination. I’m going to warm up.
Like singing scales, only more fun.