In my head on a good day, I am Supergirl, when I'm exhausted, Joan Crawford. When Joan rears her head, its time to call your best friend.
A distraught phone call (from the bathroom floor at work) to my best friend, I'll call Mycroft. Almost on cue in true fairy godmother style, Mycroft appears, baring a box of chocolates and words of wisdom. She reminds me that some of the greatest pieces of literature have been penned in the darkest moments for example: Charlotte Bronte's, Jane Eyre. Charlotte penned Jane Eyre in a dark room, while her tyrannical father lay dying from TB. Charlotte was going blind and her mouth was stuffed with gauze because her teeth we rotting out of her head. JK Rowling wrote Harry Potter while on welfare, the list goes on. Mycroft reminded me that life is messy and if I want to be writer, I must learn to write in the darkest of moments.
So hear I sit, with a box of mint chocolates, a copy of Jane Eyre, and notes for my novel slowly typing away. Whenever, I feel myself wanting to lay down on the couch and drown myself in a sea of dvds. I page through Jane Eyre, eat a chocolate and keep on writing. Its not easy, however, not writing is far worse.