My Busy, Lazy Week.

Last week was my first week back at work since lockdown began and, as a result, my writing came to a standstill until Sunday. It's not that there hasn't been any time, just that getting back into the routine and working hard has left me with little energy.

I used my first week back as a bit of an excuse to let my discipline go and do whatever non-taxing thing I wanted with my spare time. It's been a week of procrastination, but I've put my guilt about that to one side for the time being. It's not often I have the opportunity to watch what I want on TV or allow myself the luxury of doing nothing at all. So, just this once, I decided it was okay to be lazy during the hours I wasn't being busy with work or childcare.

Between writer's block on the children's book side of things and hating the chapter I was at with my editing, my motivation was somewhat lacking anyway. I think it would have been a tall order to expect to overcome those things at the same time as a total routine change and the physical tiredness resulting from the job itself.

There's a lot to be said for routines and timetables for writing projects, though I think the strictness of these will depend on the other variables in a person's life. For those of us who work another job and/or have small children, keeping our writing going is a challenge at times. Now and again, we need to cut ourselves some slack. I would find a completely regimented approach impossible.

Anyway, after almost a full week's break from writing and editing, on Sunday I was prompted by a friend to do something a bit different; enter a flash fiction competition. The task was to write a piece of up to 250 words of any genre.

I decided to give it a go and loved the challenge. The great thing about flash fiction is it's good practice for making your writing concise. With such a low word limit, every word has to work hard for its place on the page, which is how we should be writing our novels. No-one wants to read an author's irrelevant ramblings when they're trying to stay connected to a story.

The exercise of writing something – anything – gave me the kick start I needed, and I managed to fight my way through editing out the parts of that chapter I so despised. Now it just needs a little padding out with some more action. I still haven't overcome my writer's block where the children's book is concerned, but that's a job for some time this week. Maybe some inspiration will come to me.

Speaking of inspiration, an idea for a play came to me last night when I was listening to some music my drama teacher used for some of our performances in school. The beginnings of a plot and script began to form. I could picture the actors and the stage lighting. I envisioned scenes filled with emotion, the performers assaulting the audience's senses, performing in a similar style to Antonin Artaud's theatre of cruelty. I can't stop thinking about it now because, you know, I don't already have enough projects on the go.

It's funny how an idea can just hit you out of nowhere. All it took for me was time and space to switch off from everything else, then the music became my stimulus. Inspiration doesn't always hit at the most convenient times, or for the project I've got in hand, but knowing my ideas haven't run dry completely is a great comfort.

V.