The good news is, I’m getting some editing done. I’m allowing my imagination to wander and I’m picking up on my character’s vibes; getting their words from their mouths to the page, as well as their actions and their thoughts. Spending some serious concentration on my novel is something I’ve been trying to do for a while, though it’s not likely to last into the weekend. Unfortunately, my ex crapped out on me yet again, so I have the kids. Again.

The bad news is, it seems that all I’ve been able to do for the last couple of days is be creative. So while my right brain takes the lead I haven’t been able to come up with anything to write about on my blog. I’m all kinds of imagination and no real life. It’s a good way to be – I think so anyway.

Still, in a way it’s frustrating. When I’m “in” my novel, I walk around the block on my paper route and I see nothing around me. The absence of photos these past few days (is it weeks already?) is proof. I go into this trance-like state, sometimes even walking right past the houses I’ve been delivering to for two and a half years now, and having to back-track. My family has to say things to me three times before I understand the words. Which is interesting to me, because according to the research I just did, the left brain (that I’m not using very much of these days) is responsible for words, among other things.

I suppose I should be pleased about this. In my experience it’s hard to get to the point I’m at right now, able to use my creative side.  When I’m pulled out of it usually, by having someone interrupt me when I’m trying to write, I get so annoyed that it takes me hours to go back, if I can at all.

It must, however, be extremely inconvenient for anyone who tries to interact with me when I’m like this.  Wouldn’t you hate living with a writer? I would.

I must check to see if I start off with my left foot to go up and down stairs when I’m right-brained…