i have read loads of essays about dedication to the craft of writing. I have read On Writing by Stephen King, Bird by Bird by Mary Karr, and the Memoir Project by Marion Roach. I did Nanowrimo and tried the Pomodoro Method. But I am not a professional writer, I am not even an emerging writer. I want to write but at times am paralyzed by fear of rejection and a worse fear that I have nothing to say. That makes it really tough to sit down every morning at the same time and “get to work.” But, i have found an answer.
Since I left for Tokyo and Micronesia on April 25th, i have written for hours each day. I have sent emails and even posted on my blog.
Here is my secret: travel alone to countries with vast time differences.
Each morning, i have woken up to the clock hovering around 2am. Sometimes i am awakened by a call from an family member ignorant of the 16 hour time change. Sometimes, there is no reason other than i fell into my bed exhausted at 7pm. Why I was awake did not matter.
With nothing to do and nowhere to even find a cup of tea, i pull out my laptop and compose an email filled with jet-lagged musings, not dissimilar to the pot-induced philosophical discussions from my youth.
The words flowed effortlessly resulting in a perfect vomit draft that i sent to my mom, spouse, siblings, and friends who emailed back making me feel loved and important.
“I feel like I am with you,” said a friend in her email reply. That little bit of encouragement was the incentive I craved. I wrote about the subways in Tokyo, the beaches of Guam, and the sesame oil oozing from my breakfast rice in Pohnpei.
My advice: travel. Far away. Alone. Now!
