Greetings. Today, I didn’t want to write. It’s not that ideas weren’t shooting off like fireworks in my head, but I just didn’t know if the words I had in mind would be worthy of fleshing and dramatizing my characters and scenes.
Pessimistic Self: Come on, there’s no way you can execute that. Lol. Just don’t bother. Oooh look . . . you can read an article about black holes and quantum physics instead.
Moi: Well, that does sound tempting. And you’re probably right . . .
Pessimistic Self: Yeah, ditch the writing today. Heck, ditch it forever! You can be free from all that foolish frivolity and instead live virtually as an elf — Dalish or city? — and save the world!
Moi: Hmm. But aren’t video games kind of frivolous, too? I mean, I kind of want to be an elf mage again, but I like my characters, too. Towers possess a kind of twisted and tragic beauty. Besides, I eventually get to escape and meet really cool people. Alistair, Wynn, Leliana, Zevran, Shale. Party banter is tight!
Pessimistic self: Great! When the kids are tucked in their beds, sleeping cozy and sweet, looking like slumbering angels, that’ll be your chance! Play, play, play all night! RPG! RPG! RPG!
Moi: Erm, I. But I have priorities. I really need to write. So . . .you know . . .
Pessimistic Self: No, I don’t know! I don’t know anything!
Flailing and floundering, I re-read some of what I already completed to motivate me to write the next string of scenes.
I really wanted to get myself lost for an hour or two playing Dragon Age: Origins. Why? Procrastination. King Cailan needs a proper burial. I also want to retrieve his lost armor before the loathsome darkspawn seize it with their vile hands!
But . . .