Habit

In Mrs. Dalloway Virginia Woolf wrote, "Rigid, the skeleton of habit alone upholds the human frame." It's a trudging sort of quote, but speaks to me because there is much of life made easier (or even possible) by knowing how, and that we must, take the next step. Writing is about creativity, but it is also about habit. I am trained. I make myself coffee or cocoa, sit at my desk, look at the blinking cursor, and then I start. Well, then I usually start. It isn't perfect. But it generally gets me where I want to go.

I've just moved to a beautiful house in London, England, with a lot of light and a kettle and coffee maker just begging to make me hot beverages. I have my computer and I have the exact same brain and creativity I had when I left Canada. This means that of course my brain says, "Hello, where is my desk? I will not cooperate without my desk. I cannot write while sitting here on this couch. That is ridiculous. Because that is not my habit."

So I have yet to write, but I'm not going to be hard on myself until more than a day has gone by in this situation. I'll read my last post for inspiration. And anyway, I'll soon have a desk. For now, I'll attempt to bend the rigid skeleton of habit - preferably without breaking anything.

It's a journey, and it continues

The first novel I wrote after moving away from Edinburgh was effectively a love letter to the city. I described Arthur's Seat, the gardens, Princes Street, the Scott Monument, and many other aspects I'd loved over the years in a way that fit and framed and painted my story. I'm no Ian Rankin, but I did my best. Although the story could have taken place in another city - the same way I suppose they could hold the Edinburgh Tattoo in another city - it didn't, (and they shouldn't.)



It took me two years in Terrace before I wrote a novel that was a type of love letter to this town. By then I'd figured out why people love it here and stay their whole lives. It might not be my fate, but the surroundings and much of the community is of a quality I have not found anywhere else. I have made friends here that I already know will last my lifetime, and I'm extremely grateful as well as foolishly proud of what I've found and what has found me.



And now my time here is just about over. Part of my exciting news from last month is that I'm moving far, far away from this lovely land, to somewhere I've never lived before. For an adventurer like me, that's exactly how it should be done.



I find interest and inspiration no matter where I go. I've written in notebooks on trains, on napkins in ferry cafeterias, on my hand while walking down the street, and yes, with a laptop in Starbucks. I've written in Canada, in Europe, and somewhere in between at 35,000 feet. Thanks to technology's devious lack of borders, this weblog will follow me no matter where I go (um - so long as I have internet access.) Who knows what novel I'll write next? A love story for London, or a lament for lost places? Either way, I'm good to go.