Most of my last week/weekend was spent lying on my back on my floor with a sack of frozen peas under me. I sort of tweaked my back late last week and I couldn’t get it right for awhile so I was forced to take a rather boring vacation from writing.
It was really weird. Jimmy Stewart fans out there will no doubt remember It’s A Wonderful Life, one of his more famous movies in which he is given a chance to see what the world would be like if he had never existed, with the end result being that he realizes how special his life actually is and how much he has been taking for granted.
I couldn’t help but draw parallels to that movie during the seventy-two hours I spent staring at my ceiling. I’m fond of complaining about writing, when you spend as much time doing something as I spend writing you inevitably wind up complaining a bit. It was weird, though, being forced to lay mere yards away from my computer and not, no matter what, be able write. Usually I’m in my desk chair longing to go lie down, not the other way around.
I’m not saying I’ll never complain about writing again, but I did get an interesting look at what it would be like if writing left my life entirely. I couldn’t even do research or read or even think much due to discomfort. It was shocking how much I missed being able to tinker with my stories and characters and how much I wanted to get back to them just because it would be fun to do so.
I’ve learned a valuable lesson. One which I should forget here any minute now.