This Week @ Monday Creek: Mojitos

 

Another writer told me today she gets fanny fatigue if she sits too long. I smiled at this because I know just what she means! It seems we can become so enthralled with writing that we forget the time and need to get up and stretch our legs. Some writers set timers so that they get up every hour and move. That sounds fine, but I truly wonder what happens when they are in the middle of writing a climatic scenario. Do they dismiss the timer and keep going? My guess is they don’t even take the time to turn the timer off! It just keeps buzzing and buzzing, finally jerking the annoying timer to the side - making a shrill cry as it hits the floor (so I've been told).

You can’t stop a moving train… er… writer. They say Hemingway maintained a strict writing schedule. He began writing as early as 6 am, stopping at noon. After that, he would break for lunch, contemplate his storyline, take walks, drink a mojito (or two), nap, etc. 

But Hemingway did not face some of the interruptions that current writers face – cell phones and zoom calls come to mind. Could Hemingway keep his schedule in today’s world? Maybe. I guess you have to be assertive enough to tell people to leave you alone.

This time of year it's easy to procrastinate. As we wiggle through October, the clouds seem puffer, the sky a little more azure, and thoughts of the ensuing holidays mean another year is winding down. Before the year is over, however, there is much to be done! We are preparing for the Monday Creek Book Festival in November and still have a few author tables left for those who are interested. The event will host 40+ talented authors. Maybe we can live-stream the event so the world can watch! I will check into it.

Things around the countryside are getting brighter with the turn of the leaves. Variegated greens now turn to luminous orange and gold. The change of seasons is a marvelous event in SE Ohio. It’s true, leaves do rustle, wooly worms can be entirely black, and squirrels can travel backward up a hickory tree.

We have a small cabin in the woods where I like to sit and write. It’s not always silent there. Walnuts hitting the cabin roof wake you if you’re taking a nap. And there’s fanny fatigue there as well. Do you think Hemingway felt fanny fatigue after writing six hours every morning? Maybe the mojito deadened the discomfort. Maybe we all need a mojito.  

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