The View from the Keyboard

Earlier this month the family rented a house and spent four days on the Washington state coast. This was the view from most of the rooms.

Even more amazing, we had four consecutive days of warm, cloudless weather.
At one point I was staring out the window and thinking how great it would be to have my desk and computer right there so that every time I glanced up I'd see...

I knew I was kidding myself. The view would be great but it would just be one more excuse not to write. One more distraction.

That had a familiar ring to it so I rummaged through How to Write Your Novel in Nine weeks and sure enough Little Willie pointed out:

In the same way, you can write a great book without having that “cabin by the lake”—your holy of holies, your retreat, your sanctuary—in which to write it. That’s good news, isn’t it? I assume you’re not at that lake right now. Not looking out the huge picture window to gaze on a vast expanse of lake and forest and . . . . No! Wait. French doors. Looking out those french doors, which are open just a few inches so you can feel the breeze, take in the pine-scented fresh air, listen to the . . .

Blah, blah, blah. If you did own that “perfect” cabin, you’d have to worry about taxes and insurance and a leaky roof and . . . . Does that cabin have indoor plumbing? No? Then you might end up doing some suffering there on a cold, dark night when nature calls and you have to head for the outhouse.

Writing a novel (beginning, middle, and end) means overcoming a lot of distractions. Day after day.

You can do that. And get better at it, day after day.

Just keep writing.