There are various writing prompts out there – I’ve even got a couple to try out before the month is up. One lesser known one is: write until the power runs out.
By this I mean, before I get to 10 mins left of power on the laptop and I need to plug it in again. I usually notice at about 20 mins left, so that’s 10 mins of writing time.
It’s enough.
It can act as a spur to finish up  a post – I’m normally underway when I notice it. Today, I’m starting at 20 mins, working back to 10.
I need to remind myself it’s not a speed typing test, sometimes. But then, sometimes, the ideas are queuing up at the gate, waiting for the off, and it’s all I can do to get my fingers to keep up with the typing.
(There’s also something fun about typing fast. Particularly when you don’t need to stop much, because you know what you want to say.)
I know that there are plenty of people out there who like deadlines – well, they don’t so much like them, but they find them helpful (in the end) to get the job done.
I don’t like deadlines. They sabotage my efforts to get ahead by doing more than I need to in the regular amount of time. (Yes. I know that doesn’t make a lot of sense. Perhaps you need to be a recovering perfectionist, or talk to one, to get that one.)
But despite not liking deadlines, small ones that I choose to go with at times can go OK. Like this one – knowing I’ve got 10 mins to write in, but knowing I can choose whether to go with the challenge or not.
Six minutes left. Not bad. Time to pause. I am waiting for the big trees over the way to come into leaf – always the last to lose their leaves, always the last to have their new ones.
They give me hope – of holding on, and of things coming to fruition. In their own time.
Five minutes left. Perhaps the ideas have slowed a little. Perhaps it’s time to make another leap into the present moment, rather than back into the undercurrent of words inside.
The light is catching half of one towel hanging up in my room. With a home facing east-west, in terms of direction of most windows, there’s a very definite pattern of which rooms have most light at different times of day.
Writing against the clock is a bit like that. Trying to squeeze out the words before the light fades. Or equally, trying to add your own light through words, for just a little longer.
One more minute. I don’t need to do this and I do need to do this and I like writing when the house is quiet. Which of these elements will keep me writing? Which will cause me to grind to a halt?
Sometimes the timer on the computer goes backwards. I haven’t really figured out why. Back to two minutes, back to one again. A reprieve? A chance to capture more light?
Sometimes the trick is to write. To spot the light still available, and write. To spot the spare minute, and write.
Time’s up.