Often I’m writing as the sun rises. I may have Classic FM playing softly in the background; or I may have nothing going at all and just revel in the silence. Whatever underscores it, for me there’s a special quality to early mornings before much of the rest of my own time zone awakens.
Now and then I joke on my Twitter account as I get going, moaning about it being, say, 4:47 am and what a ridiculous hour it is. Yet I find pre-dawn is also when my mind is usually at its “busiest.” I’ve never been sure why that is. Perhaps it’s simply waking up thinking…. and off we go.
On holidays, I feel much the same – about the mornings anyway:
Today, we’re up early also because we’re venturing to St. Augustine. It’s the oldest European settled town in North America. We were there last summer, and were wowed by it:
Now that we are again in the vicinity (unexpectedly) with my father, he is eager to see it too.
I should be writing more than these blog posts. Then again, I suspected I’d get little done on the holiday, and I’ve been right about that: I’ve done not a “substantive” bit of Distances writing since last week. Last night, it was drinks outside on the deck:
I suppose I could write some really, uh, great stuff after consuming enough of that. Or, more likely, it would merely be alcohol-driven junk. As a “morning person,” I suspect that, alcohol-assisted or not, it wouldn’t be very good. Little I’ve written in evenings has ever been “very good” (in my opinion). 🙂
In addition, when you write but aren’t actually writing, you feel pangs of guilt. After all, no novel gets written unless you actually write it. Non-production, regardless of how good or necessary the reason, is, in the end, still non-production.
You can’t stay on holiday forever.
Oh, and be assured none of that is an April Fool’s. 😉