Write Until It Burns ( Cont ’ d ) the last drop of brandy from my glass . I contemplated getting a bit more . No ! That would mean stopping . I decided to push ahead without it .
Tap . Tap . Tap . More words poured from my mind onto the digital page . I pushed myself to write as fast as I could . It was one of my most productive sessions . But I wanted more .
Then ... three AM ! Bam ! I hit my goal ! I stood from the chair and stretched . I was proud of the night . I walked over to at the fire pit . I watched the flames dance across the rocks .
I scanned the yard for Lacie . Quietly , I called out for her . At first , I couldn ’ t find her . Then , something made me turn , She was behind me , standing at the patio door . There was something hanging from her mouth . As I drew closer , I saw what it was . A small rodent she ’ d brought back as a souvenir . Yuck !
“ Oh no ! You ’ re not bringing that into the house !” I made her drop it , then opened the door to let her inside . I quickly disposed of the poor little being as Lacie stared sadly at me through the glass .
I entered and went immediately to the guest bathroom to wash my hands . Thoroughly ! It was then I began to notice stinging feeling on my calf . After I dried my hands , I felt my calf . What was that ?
I almost bent myself like a pretzel to see if I could get a look . I did . A portion of my skin was no longer there . About the size of two quarters . It had been rubbed off . What the …? I thought about how it could have happened . Then , it came to me . The habit . This habit I ’ ve had since childhood . Whether I ' m engrossed in a conversation or lost in thought , my knee will rhythmically bounce up and down . It seems out of my control . It simply does it on its own .
It drove my mom crazy . Sometimes I ’ d do it so vigorously at the dining room table , a light pinging sound could be heard from her china cabinet . No matter how much she tried , she could never break me of it . “ Larry , stop !” she ’ d say . I would , but it would start up a few minutes later . I was so focused on my writing my bare calf rubbed against the steel frame , I didn ’ t notice what was happening . Crazy ! I no longer have that house . But I do have that habit . That event has become a powerful metaphor . Write until it burns ! Focus and write ! Like nothing else matters . It ’ s all about the words . It ' s all about the story . No gain without pain , right ?
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WRITERS ’ TRICKS OF THE TRADE
PAGE 13
FALL 2017