Unleash Your Inner Rebel: The Secret Art of Guerrilla Writing Revealed
My sworn enemy, the laptop battery, reminded me I had 90 minutes to write this. The charging cord is at home on my desk, and the cats are probably chewing on it. Already, the battery says that 90 minutes was a roughshod approximation, and I better create and hunt and peck faster than I ever have, sucker. Okay, sure. I’m up for it.
Part of me dies every time I watch a film montage of a character writing a novel. The only distinction in these quick glimpses into the creation of a masterpiece is the writing instrument used: quill and ink, typewriter, word processor or laptop. With a smirk, I watch rapid-fire typing, a look of glee or divine focus on the writer’s face. Cut to a few wads of paper with a bottle of whiskey or a steaming cup of coffee in the foreground. Forgiving the time compression given to cinematic retellings of events, the novel is done in three minutes. The heroic dispenser of great literature leans back in their chair and smiles with the peacefulness of a job well done. Bullshit. Bullshit. And horseyshit.
