What’s it like when you have to stop?
“You write until you come to a place where you still have your juice and know what will happen next and you stop and try to live through until the next day when you hit it again.”
- Ernest Hemingway
I stumbled across this quote while on a non-writing tangent today. I was actually deep in research for work. And yet there it was, a Hemingway quote that managed to reach out and summarize how I’m feeling.
I write for two hours each morning. Before most of the world wakes up, I write. This has become a deeply embedded routine for me. So much so that I don’t feel right if I have to modify it in the slightest. After my two hour block is up, I head into work.
This week, I’m working on a short story that feels the way Hemingway describes. It’s not the same one I was working on last week. I’m still waiting on a few trusted friends to get back to me on that one (hint, hint guys)1. This is new story I started on a whim. I still have another few weeks before the self-imposed hiatus from my novel ends, so I started something new. With only two characters and a situation:
Two guys who used to be friends are in a Manhattan Diner at 3 am. Why are they there?
And with that, I started writing, the story unfolding under my fingers.
It’s been exhilarating.
This morning, I drew close to the end after adding two thousand words onto the two thousand I already had. Close, but not close enough to finish. I do have a day job after all.
So I stopped. As Hemingway said, at a place where I still have my juice. But I really, really want to finish. It will wait until tomorrow, and I’ll savor the chance to finish over a hot cup of coffee and no movement in my house other than the gears in my head. But right now, I can see how Hemingway felt.
Lucky for me, I love my job. It’s pretty absorbing in itself, so by the time you read this, I’ll be back in the thick of my research.
Also lucky for me, I don’t happen to possess any of the particular vices Ernest turned to in his attempts to “live through the day.” But I digress…
So is this just me, or do you also struggle with stopping? Even if it’s not in writing, how do you decide when it’s time to take a break and live life a little?
Note: The picture above is a window outside Harry’s Bar, a popular haunt of Hemingway’s when he lived in Venice. I took the picture in September right before Sarah and I walked inside and balked at the menu. Rather than paying twelve Euros for a glass of wine, we took our business elsewhere.
Popularity: 31% [?]
- Sarah LOVED it though, which makes me happy [↩]
If you liked this post, subscribe to my RSS feed, or subscribe via Email.
February 19th, 2008 at 1:03 pm
For me stooping is sometimes painful. sometimes it’s a relief.
February 20th, 2008 at 8:16 am
I stop when my child is about to explode with boredom and needs some attention or when I’m too exhausted to continue. It’s either maddening or a relief, respectively.
February 20th, 2008 at 9:11 am
Trula and L,
There seems to be consensus here. Stopping is sometimes as Hemingway describes, and yet sometimes we want to run away from the computer or journal as fast as possible. I’ve certainly had plenty of both.