Last week I drove to Lafayette to have lunch with daughter. I listened to an oldies CD. The song, All I Have to do is Dream by the Everly Brothers came on, and brought back a memory of when I was a kid window shopping with my parents. I hated window shopping. Still do. I’ve never liked looking at things I want and being unable to buy them. Window shopping is pure torment.
My mind runs rampant and random when I drive—especially on an interstate where there’s straight sailing. So, when the words of All I have To Do is Dream slammed into me, I realized when it comes to my writing, all I’m doing is window shopping. All I have to do is dream, dream, dream … and I’m satisfied. Whenever I want to feel productive, all I have to do is dream… or critique a manuscript for a friend… or start a literary magazine with a friend … or join another online writer’s group … or blog, or leave a message on someone else's blog … or purchase another how-to book ... or even write/submit haiku.
Get the picture? It's my escape, yet it's satisfying my need to be creative and productive--or I think it is. Actually, that's why I feel so frustrated. My lack of focus...accomplishment. My dreaming is the equivalent of some of you mopping your floors for an hour, or cleaning off your desk to avoid getting over that hump in your chapter 7. You'll get back to your chapter 7--I hope.
My driving and random thoughts took me from the song, to window shopping with my parents, to analyzing my writing life—and that little plotting/word association/mind-mapping exercise showed me that I’m window shopping—wasting my time. And I don’t like it.
I guess I need to do something about it, don’t I? Revise/rewrite at least one of my eleven novels. Or trash them all and start over fresh.
Have you realized something about yourself that needs to be fixed? What are you doing about it?