Distraction or Support?

I'm sitting in my living room. I have been thinking about my current novel in progress. On my lap is my computer. At my feet are... bits of tumbled glass.

I've thought about shifting my blog page for a while to a different focus. It's not the first time, but I think those earlier growing pains has brought me to this place. One of the reasons I wanted the shift is that I cannot always write about writing. Sometimes the effort to work on the novel are so difficult I cannot blog about it. The last time I worked on it, I felt as if I ought to be sweating. I felt just as exhausted as climbing 600+ steps to the top of Amicalola Falls. Should I write that it took me a week to figure out I needed to delete two short chapters? That the work had come to a crashing halt?

Instead of despairing, I distracted myself. First I cleaned out my Art Shed, so I could use it. I took over my kid's play rock tumbler, and tossed in some broken glass. I pulled out the frame of an old wooden screen that had been collected dust and spiderwebs and spider eggs for about five years. I then got to work.

Yes, I was avoiding writing. However, the project gave me room to think about what I wanted to do for the novel, but also let me exercise those skills in practical terms. Initially, I'd wanted to create a light box with the old screen. The frame itself was large enough. Then I asked myself: do I have the tools to cut the wood necessary? I realized I did not. I did, however, have a staple gun. The easiest solution would be to make a fabric screen. I moved on. Making choices on how to create that screen with what I had on hand, and what I could easily buy was not a completely worthless distraction. I flexed my mind, and kept frustration at bay. I was able to get back to the novel and make some choices.

And, of course, the writing came to yet another crashing halt, and life stepped in with it's own set of distractions as well. Now I'm here, pretending indifference to my novel, while contemplating the creation of a gift for a friend, to help her remember and celebrate a milestone she worked years to reach. The rock tumbler whirred for two weeks to get me at this place where I had some pretty pieces of glass to work with. The choices I make to create something lovely will help me, I know, make some more tough choices when I brave myself to write.