Why Writers Need to Write

So what's a writer to do when she's forcing herself not to write and her favorite goof-off pasttime (Backspace) is temporarily indisposed? Well, she reads. And she complains a lot. And she lets her mind wander through the field of ideas for Ninth Grade Sucks. And she blogs. And she enters contests.

For instance, yesterday she entered Ascent Aspirations' poetry and flash fiction contest. She's hopeful. And she's becoming too fond of referring to herself in the third person.

Today, I may do something that would raise the hairs on the back of anyone's neck--I may clean my desk. *shriek!* I know, scary. But in my non-writingness, my usual cozy comfort of being surrounded by various stacks of papers and books is becoming a terrible draw. It pulls me over to my desk, when I should really just stay away from it this week. Desk + butt = writing. It never fails. But perhaps if I focus on cleaning my desk, I'll become a tad more organized and my butt will have an excuse to sit close to the computer.

Dude, how sad am I?

Maybe I'll go stare at the red circle some.