Writing: Just Get in the Car and Turn on the Headlights

I have not resolved to write; I am just writing. It’s been going well, but on the way to my writing post at the appointed time this morning, I had an Alka-Seltzer thought. (So-called, in small part, because the thought is related to dyspepsia. More so because it reminds me of Alka-Seltzer tablets’ behavior after the plop-plop. Once they lose enough of their mass, the tablets start a cycle: rise to the surface, fizz, sink, repeat.)

The thought? “I have nothing to say.” Once at the surface it immediately draws other thoughts to the surface: “I have nothing to say. In spite of it being Epiphany, I have had no epiphanies. Because I have had no new thoughts, maybe I should go back to thinking or praying or meditating or watching another episode of the series or just go on to my administrative work for the day.” Typically these thoughts then translate into action while the original thought slips below the surface awaiting another day. This morning, however, my habit arrested the downward movement.   

I have not resolved to write; I am just writing.

I went into the study, opened the texts under consideration, read what I had already written on the matter, and began to write. And the writing generated thoughts, which generated words. Only when I reread them in the next day or two or fifty will I determine if they are wheat or chaff. It is enough, today, that I did not allow the fizzy, fleeting thought derail me.

Later in the morning, I gained a good antidote for future bouts with this particular anxiety. On his January 6, 2021, episode of the The Writer’s Almanac, Garrison Keillor cited American novelist E. L. Doctorow’s thought on writing: “It’s like driving a car at night. You can only see as far as your headlights illuminate, but you can make the whole trip that way, you see.” Not only do I love driving at night, I’ve experienced the thrill of driving in blinding snow, rain, and fog. I’ve even driven at night when both headlights burned out. Neither safe nor wise, but I enjoyed the thrill and lived to tell about it. I just have to get in the driver’s seat, remind myself that I like the thrill of driving and getting to my destination. And so, I have not resolved to write; I am just writing.