Bella Bryce's latest blog posts
Carrying on from my current topic, ”Bella-isms”, where I share a bit about how and when I write, where I write, how I think and general musings on the subject. See yesterday’s post for more.
My writing habits are . . . a little worthy of hermit-status.
Coffee shop writing: I very often write in my local coffee shop in America (I never did this in England). I usually go at 8 or 9 am and sit in the same spot (unless it’s taken, and then I get a bit uneasy but find somewhere else to sit) until 3 or 4 pm. Sometimes until 6pm. My husband gets home and he either meets me at the coffee shop and gawks at how long I’ve sat there and written, or politely reminds me that ‘it’s time to go home now, love, you’ve been long enough.’ Poor chap needs dinner. I was doing that five days a week, then I wrote a book in just over a month so I gave it a rest. I work well when there’s music in the background and conversation at the coffee shop. Other times, music is a distraction but people never are. So long as someone isn’t speaking directly to me whilst I write, I can use the buzz to propel me further into my creative world.
Home writing: other times, I stay at home and write for the same amount of time, not moving from my study unless I need the loo or another cup of tea or coffee. I did this once for three days straight and my husband had to escort me to the bathtub and wash my hair for me because I did the whole, ‘I’ll wash it tomorrow, I’m writing now.” Either way, he and I reconnected afterward. And my writing and I reconnected
But I’m not a hermit. No, really, I’m not. I have a social life, I have close friends on several continents whom we keep in contact and visit, my husband and I go on dates, we travel, we love our church family and are very involved with serving the community and people who need our time, finances, love and attention. But, writing has always been my thing, my back pocket friend that I can pull out and do when I feel like it. But I’ve never written a book, even though I tried for 13 years (starting at age 13) to complete a novel and it never worked. I forced myself to sit and write and literally never produced the finished product after dedicating myself to it.
So how did I write a book in six weeks after 13 years of failed attempts?
Perhaps best reflected on later. Because I’m not concerned about the ”whys” of it, I’m just pleased to have done it!
My husband read it (who doesn’t read much besides work-related titles) and loved it. Not only loved it, but encouraged me to get it published. Wait. What? It was hard enough sharing with HIM what I’d written! How on earth could I put myself out there for a publisher to turn down? Well, you see, they didn’t turn me down. That’s the difference between hiding away in insecurity and being courageous enough to share a bit of yourself with the world. Sometimes at the end of a great story is a publisher. Other times, it’s the fact that you’ve finished it. For me, I’m glad it’s both.
So . . . are there any books in YOU trying to get out?
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