State of the writer circa... what week is it anyway?

State of the writer circa... what week is it anyway?

I lost time somewhere, these past couple weeks. Well, decoupled more than lost.

I've been thinking some about traction. When you have it, when you lose it.

A couple weeks back, I got one of those calls from my boss. The kind of call that ends with me getting a last minute plane ticket and a hotel room and heading a thousand miles away to the top of a mountain.

And staying here until we're done with what we have to do. Hazards of the day gig being essential, necessary. Sometimes, I get the call.

Which is why I found myself driving a beat up old one and a half ton, four wheeling it up the side of a mountain on a limestone gravel path. The trees and grass grow close up that track.

Close enough you can't see the fall. Which is kind of comfortable, really, when the wheels lose their grip. Put it in neutral, let her slide back down to the next easy slope, hunt for gear and 4 lo or hi until you think you've got it.

Throttle up and try it again, nope, ease back down, a little farther, back in 4 hi and let's use a little more gas, a little more velocity, don't think about how hard you've got the wheel over to the left and the way the tires are spinning.

A little rain, you see, can make yesterday's easy trip up today's quiet and focused trip up. Quiet in the cab of the truck, anyway. While it's happening.

Some other folks didn't have so quiet a trip, overloaded trailer making the same way and they tell me a different story depending on which one I ask. One of them says the rig lost its rear end, that's how the trailer ended up side over and jacknifed.

Another rumor says different, that they tried to hook on with another truck and tandem the load. Either way, no one got hurt, they just had the longest slow thirty seconds of their lives getting ready for the back wheels to catch...

Just. In the berm, and it's a funny business knowing they'd rather be over on their side, trailer ripped free of the gooseneck and the rig, rather than what would have happened if the wheels didn't catch. That slow ride would have gotten a lot faster, then. Thankfully it didn't.

Traction, when you have it and when you don't. Some ways, I've got traction these weeks. The day work, slow and painful, gets done. The milestones, the ones that tell us we're doing some good, and that tell me we're not going to get lucky we just have to stay good, they come.

Other ways, well, I'm thinking about the way Dean Wesley Smith puts it: set the goal, do the work, and even if you don't quite get the whole enchilada, what you did do is still one heck of a ways toward the ultimate goal.

What's that mean here? Well, if you dear reader have stuck with me for a while, you've seen the weekly story go up, and you've seen a monthly collection or novel go up to the broad retail release. I'll hit a year of the weekly stories mid-November, and I'll hit a year of the monthly January. I've got the work to make those marks, so that's...

I had a big moment, a couple weeks ago, looking at that result. The little light dawning, that hey, wow, I really did do the work.

And then I got that call I was talking about from the day gig. Don't worry, I've a story coming out Thursday, and I'll be able to carve out time to continue those on schedule. And with the monthly releases, well, we'll just have to stack 'em up a couple in November, or maybe even triple in December.

You takes your little victories, and you gets on down the road. Sure, I can wish I had the time, and oh lordy most of all the energy, to get myself a few more words every day than I've been able to get the past month plus.

I count stories in the directories, you see, because I had one of my occasional dark days, the ones where the energy levels read "forget it" and the failure klaxons ring in my ears.

Rough seas, and I know how good it feels to write. I know this is temporary. I know this.

But I still have the waves and the clouds and the call to get through, and they pass and I come out into clear water again, and I tell myself, hey, you've done good work here, breathe deep. Don't think. Just be.

Put it in neutral. Watch the mirrors, easy on the brake. Trust it. The ride. The work. The process. Find a little spot.

Put it back in gear and ease on the throttle again. When you're ready. It's still there, the road. Ready to meet you when you're ready to go where it leads. Breathe. You're good. You did well.

There's a mountain there. Ahead. Wanna go see what the view looks like from there?

I do.