A Writing Life (Part 19)

There is an envelope next to me with a letter I plan on mailing tomorrow. It is addressed to my mother. It has been a long time since I’ve written to her. Usually, I have a weekly phone call from home and she now has an email address. In our last conversation, she admitted that she had not used the computer in a very long time (my stepfather, now retired, also uses the computer quite rarely). I won’t admit it, but I like the fact that they are not in front of a computer screen when they try to reach me. Also, I like to write as often as I can: letters, journal entries, ideas for stories, poems, plays and screenplays. This is why I have not yet shaken the habit of passing by dollar stores and stationery shops and picking up the occasional notebook or writing pad for the price of a cup of coffee. Many writers will admit that having a pen and a pad in their bag, purse, backpack or pocket means that there is also a good chance that they will use it. To return to how I opened this paragraph, I have to mention advice that my mother gave me about writing (something that suits a temperament and personality that has to have an endless number of notebooks in use and lying about with half-finished work): When you cannot sleep, write. This does work for me, and it is the best advice I have ever received because it is best suited not only to my routine, but also to my temperment. Put the page in front of me, and something will end up on it.