Tuesday, January 30, 2007

This is your brain on writing

I've been writing all morning, and just now I decided to break for "elevenses," as my British friends call it. I made a lovely pot of English Breakfast tea, and just at the end of its steeping time, I remembered that my sugar bowl needed a refill.

I had been composing lines of dialogue as I prepared the tea, my laptop computer sitting just a few feet away on the kitchen table. I started to rush over there and enter the exchange I'd just thought up, but then I paused to say it out loud first. Would it sound as clever as I hoped?

It did, so I said it again. Then, chuckling over my amazing wit, I lifted the teapot and...

Poured tea into the nearly-empty sugar bowl.

I didn't merely start to pour it; I actually filled the container more than half full before I realized what I was doing.

But this was not a problem, I quickly assured myself. In fact, this solved a problem, because now I had something to blog about. Heck, I could even post a photo. So I grabbed my camera and then ran over here to whip out this post. As soon as I hit Publish, I'm going back to writing that scintillating dialogue.

There are two kinds of people reading this right now: those who are wondering how I could have done something so moronic, and those who know how I did it because they, too, are fiction writers.

Maybe we could have a little fun with that second group. Fess up, friends: What goofy things have your bodies done while your minds were wandering in storylands of your own making?


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12 comments:

Nancy said...

My most goofy thing is something I do on long car rides (usually on vacations) when DH is driving and the kids are sleeping and/or engrossed in Ipods. I'll be staring out the window thinking about my current WIP, and the car is silent. Suddenly, I'll say something like, "She could go to her grandmother's before the dance."

DH, ever patient and loving, will say, "Huh? Who can?"

I look over at him and smile sweetly. "It makes sense in my head."

"Dear, I'm not up there."

Domino said...

May I just assure you that I am fully aware of how it feels to be "distracted" - and leave it at that?

You are not alone.

Chris said...

At some point near the final draft of a story, I'll print it out and walk along some of the trails near our house, reading out loud and making notes.

Several times I've left the path and stumbled into bushes or low-hanging tree limbs.

And then there are the funny looks I get from the deer.

Chris said...

At some point near the final draft of a story, I'll print it out and walk along some of the trails near our house, reading out loud and making notes.

Several times I've left the path and stumbled into bushes or low-hanging tree limbs.

And then there are the funny looks I get from the deer.

Chris said...

At some point near the final draft of a story, I'll print it out and walk along some of the trails near our house, reading out loud and making notes.

Several times I've left the path and stumbled into bushes or low-hanging tree limbs.

And then there are the funny looks I get from the deer.

Elle Fredrix said...

My muse is quite active when I work in the garden. I've learned the hard way to step away from the pruning shears at certain times. I may walk away with a great story idea, but having to explain what happened to the lilac bush is another story entirely!

Shelley said...

Goodness...my mind has shut down for the night I think. But let me assure you that I have done things like you mention even when NOT thinking about my writing...

Brenda Coulter said...

Thanks, friends. I don't feel quite so alone now.
;-)

And Chris, should we blame Blogger for posting your comment three times, or was it just that you had your mind on your WIP?
;-)

Heather said...

I don't see the problem with this. You had only a little sugar left, so you added the tea to the sugar instead of vice versa.

Neal said...

Not quite the same thing, but on a similar theme. Last night I was talking to my wife about the birthday of a friend, whose surname is "Frankish", and whose birthday is just after Valentine's day. I pointed out that her birthday was just after Frankenstein's day. My daughter nearly wet her knickers.

Chris said...

Stupid Blogger. Kept bouncing me back to the captcha screen... (Would that I were so engrossed in my WIP.)

Feel free to delete two of them.

Bonnie Calhoun said...

I can so sympathize with you. I've done way worse...and let's just leave it at that...for now *snort*