Every day I do a lot of writing. I write emails and blog posts. I go on Twitter. I comment on other blog posts. I write lists. I write down bright ideas and plans for an imaginary future. It's all interesting, and it has to be done, but it doesn't count as word count. The only thing that counts as word count is words written on my novel.
Why is it so easy to write the other stuff, and so hard to write our creative work? I was reading about Hemingway and how he put his writing first, above anything, even when it wasn't getting anywhere and everyone was saying he should give up. I find it very hard to prioritise my writing in the same way - there's always something that needs to be done first.
I've never had any inclination to shoot elephants or catch a marlin, but oh, how I wish I could be like Ernest Hemingway. But, let's face it, that's like wishing I was a stone lighter, or could play the piano really well or speak fluent Italian. I could do all these things - if I made them a priority. Or as a friend once wryly commented, 'that's easy - no kids.'
And so I plod on. And somewhere, around the cracks and crevices of real life, the book will get written, as it always has done so. Inch by inch, not yard by yard, let alone mile by mile. But I will get there. I wish I could be like Ernest Hemingway, so I could get there quickly, but so long as I get there, does it really matter how I do it?