My Perfect Writing Day - Alisa M. Libby

The basset hound and I are freshly walked; it’s cool outside, overcast. Now we’re safe inside as the rain starts. The basset is sleepy, curled up on her dog bed. I am refreshed, alert. Listening to music that fits the mood of the book I’m working on. A mug of green tea with honey steams in my hands. I sit at my desk—a table of polished pine—and set to work.

It’s not that the writing is easy—but there is an ease. Synapses are firing. Thoughts are connecting, looping in and through each other like a length of knit and purl. The words might not be polished, but I can see things improving with every word I type. The character’s voice is coming through more clearly. The plot points resonate. The secondary characters are intriguing. And the mood is there, in tone and the setting. I can feel it, as if I am sitting in the scene.

I write, and I don’t feel exhausted. I write some more. When I do feel tired I take a real break: another short walk for the dog (extremely short, if it’s still raining) and a snack. Maybe watch an episode of “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” on Netflix and brew another pot of tea. The goal is to give my brain a complete break, but set a definite time limit. Once the episode is done, or even before, I return to the writing. I can take another break if necessary. On a good day I can work for longer this way, with periodic breaks, without feeling overextended.

When the writing is done for the day, I feel good. I’m in the mood to cook something delicious for dinner, or fold laundry, or some other domestic task that is useful but doesn’t require a great deal of thought. My mind is still on the book. On tomorrow, and my outline, and the scenes that I will write. On my character and her journey. I have a lot of work to do, but I’m getting somewhere. The feeling of progress, of a book transforming before my very eyes, is exhilarating. The kind of exhilarating that I can muse on quietly, without waking up the dog.