Spring is not near by any stretch, but here in the North we have reached a different milestone: being able again to open the drapes when we watch Daddy leave for work, and leave them open.

The light is back!

This makes early rising much more natural and achievable.  I’ve spent the last couple days adjusting my internal clock, and I’m all ready to go.  Woo Hoo!  (Of course, I say that here to twist my own arm a bit to do it.)

I met a gal last week who said growing up in Alaska she gained 15 pounds every winter and lost it every spring.

Winter changes your life.  And so does summer.

So I’ve been up early the last several days and have been picking at that last chapter (it’s turned into a total re-write, so it’s a bit slow-going).

I’m reinspired just now, though, because in a pure, words-per-minute way, morning writing is decidedly more productive than evening writing.  For now I can still see how much is being accomplished in terms of word count.

I think it’s the natural sense of urgency that I can only write until the day “starts” at 7a.m.

At night it’s a lot easier (or perhaps I should say “more natural”) to dawdle and stare off into space.

I’m not implying these have no value, but not all of them are productive (even sideways) and they certainly don’t get the story written down.  Every writer needs both kinds of work.

At night, when the fire of creativity is lit, it’s much easier to ignore the tugging and begging of one’s body complaining it’s tired than it is in the morning to ignore a similar tugging of little hands and voices.

Knowing that that is coming– hearing the restlessness in the next room as little eyes watch the clock waiting for that long-anticipated 7:00— has the effect of hurrying me along.  I agonize less over adjectives and race instead to know what happens next?

~ ~ ~

The challenge just now is balancing my theme of teamwork against the need to stay focused on the main character.  The first version of this ending was a mass of names and bodies throwing themselves at the problem, and the importance of Linnea and her contribution in bringing the fight to this (manageable) point was lost in the surge.

On one level you could say I don’t trust Linnea (my main character).

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She’s not all that charismatic or attention-gathering by her personality or wit, and there have been times when I’ve feared she’ll be overshadowed by her companions, so I feel very strongly she needs to be as distinctive as possible at the end.

So this morning I think I found a way to do what I want to do, and I’m just itching to play with it (but I can’t just now ’cause my brain won’t work that way when I’m juggling kids).  So that’ll either wait till an early bedtime or tomorrow morning.

I should mention, because it might be of interest, that this teamwork vs. the individual dichotomy became most clear while watching Disney’s Dinosaur with my kids Sunday.  That’s a show that tries to be all about teamwork, but it still comes down to the one in the end.

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Made me think about my goals and how they looked in another story.