I Got Sick!

I never get sick. Well, not seriously and not for long. It’s actually kind of freakish. I also never get fevers — I can count on the fingers of one hand the fevers I’ve had since childhood, and that includes the two times I had appendicitis.

I got sick this week. Not seriously — it was a very mild case of flu. But it was enough to make concentration impossible and it kept me out of work (though that was more about not infecting anyone else than about being too ill to work). So I’ve barely been writing, and I haven’t been thinking, and I’ve been reading people I’ve already read.

For years, I was somewhat against the BICHOK school of writing, the one that says that some part of every day must be spent with Butt In Chair, Hands On Keyboard. I was a bursty writer, one who would think and think and then write in a giant burst of at least a thousand words.

But things have changed in the last year. I’ve spent a lot of it writing at least 100 words a day, almost every day of the week, and if I didn’t write 100 words of new narrative, I spent at least five minutes of active planning and brainstorming on paper (because you can plan in your head forever; writing it down is serious business). Being sick enough that I couldn’t focus derailed me, and I’m finding it a little tough to get back on track. I’ve reached the limits of brainstorming, for now at least; now it’s time to get back to writing.

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