Take a Magic Bean

Take a magic bean.

Beans have always worked for me.  Take a bean, feel better.  Wasn’t that our motto as teenagers?

This is an exercise in futility, I am afraid – no bean will get me ready for the New York Marathon in November.

Instead I am spending my time reading the book ‘On Writing’ by Stephen King.  

Clearly, avoidance behavior at its finest.

Stephen King, the prolific author of the macabre genre, says he writes 2,000 words a day.  This reflects the discipline he has developed over the years and is what he recommends for aspiring writers. 

Discipline.  This is the key word. 

If one wants to be a professional writer, one has to be, you know, that. 

He says it takes him typically from four to six hours a day to write 2,000 words, and he does this six to seven days a week.

I am told, this is, for those of us who need to visualize these things, ten pages a day, day in, day out. 

Yikes!

I think – since I work full-time and am training for the you-know-what in New York come November – I would be wise to cut back on such a level of commitment.  My goal should be smaller.  I can build my stamina later. 

Five minutes. 

Every morning I should write for five good minutes. 

Five minutes sounds like something I can handle.  Five minutes is do-able.

One page. 

Something, in fact, I can do right now this morning.

Maybe, even, a page-and-a-half.

This way I won’t get overly tired from the mental exertion or be fired for being late for work, and I can save my physical strength for my oh-never-mind.   

Still, we mustn’t forget those beans. 

Magic beans could come in awfully handy with writing too!

Okay then, Stephen King says he goes into a room, the room where he chooses to write, closes the door, and sequesters himself inside (with the blinds drawn) until he produces his ten pages for the day.  Hmmmm….

For me, it would be better if I used my kitchen counter.  Much easier. 

Besides, I like having access to the coffee machine, the refrigerator, the pantry, the bread drawer, the bananas near the knives – much better than being off somewhere in the house with the door closed.  That sounds so secretive...  

In the kitchen, I bet, I can write, say, fifty words easy.  No problem.  Then, I can get up and make myself a piece of toast.   

Fifteen more words and I can refill my coffee cup.

Thirty words and I can look at my face in the downstairs bathroom mirror and practice my visualization exercises: how to smile on the back jacket of my Pulitzer Prize-winning book.

Wait.  What is that thing on my nose?  Where did that come from…

I decide, back at the kitchen counter, doing the math: rather than fifty words, if I write 500 words a day, six days a week, I can generate 3,000 words in one week and, say, 12,000 words in a month. 

This would be… hmmmm, let’s see…

This would be sixty pages in one month!  Wow!

This would be so cool.

Let’s see…

If I actually made an effort to combine these sixty pages of words into real sentences (with meaning!) and, maybe even, sorted the sentences into paragraphs to help categorize my thoughts, it could be even cooler!

In fact, it could be extraordinary! 

How difficult can it be to write 500 words and have them bunched together in short, separate sentences with, say, subjects, verbs and, direct objects?  Like, ah, someone doing something to someone.  Simple!  How tough can this be?

Hmmmm....  I must mull this over – especially while I check the refrigerator.  

I wonder what we are having for dinner tonight?  I need something healthy – I am running a marathon after all.

I need coffee…

Okay, I’m back and focused on writing.  What was it, fifty words?

Wait!  I really should wash the pots and pans from last night.

We had spaghetti for dinner. 

Why is it that I am the one who cleans up afterward?  For that matter, why is it that I never clean up after dinner, but always, always, always wait until the next morning? 

What a mess.

I decide at the sink, I like the concept of discipline in writing.

In truth, I realize in running the hot water, I actually thought about getting myself disciplined long before Stephen King’s book. 

In fact, I know, I’ve lacked discipline all of my life. 

When they handed out the discipline gene, I must have been in the line for magic beans…   

I recall a morning, just like this morning, earlier this year (or was it last year?); it was the morning when I first realized the truth:

I am a lazy writer.

At that time, though, I decided, I needed to think about this some more as I really lacked supporting evidence to justify such an accusation. 

Stop.  Now I've just realized –  

I am a lazy runner too – which is why my training is turning into such a disaster!  

My verdict across the board is ‘guilty’ as charged. 

I am a lazy writer, a lazy runner, and a lazy person! 

Becoming more disciplined is just the kind of punishment I need.  

Like breaking rocks…

Thirty minutes a day of actual writing should be my sentence.

Only now I’ll have to come up with a storyline.

Say, wait, Stephen King says he doesn’t like having a plot.  He simply puts characters into situations and let’s them go wherever it takes them.

Whew!  This works for me.

Most of my essays are plot-less and all of my characters, namely me, are in “situations” all the time.

Just like with this piece. 

And I'm not sure where it is taking me, either. 

In fact, working my way out of this predicament (and the one about to unfold in a month, like an impending disaster) is precisely why magic beans could come in so handy.   

Suddenly, I feel as one with Stephen King.  I am all warm and fuzzy inside.  Maybe I too can get published. 

Opps.  Wait a minute...  .

Okay, back again. 

I think the other thing is not to stop. 

I mean in terms of writing.  

“In running,” my old coach says, “the key is not to stop!”  

Only, Coach, when I write an actual paragraph, I feel like celebrating. 

I have to get serious.  

Tomorrow I get serious.  

My 500-word enterprise will begin tomorrow, and I’ll focus on a more compelling narrative too. 

Today is simply practice.  Getting the feel of what it means to be disciplined.

  

Maybe I need to move my writing to a less “addictive” place. The garage?

But NO, here I sit at my kitchen counter, disciplining myself to write, write, write…

And, that means: focus, focus, focus….

Say, wait a minute, I haven’t actually read the ‘focus’ chapter and Stephen King may have some insight on that too. 

Jeez, this writing business is harder than it seems.  

Maybe I should go running, or, rather, take a magic bean.

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