If they don't pay me in royalties, my friends, I think I might be willing to accept payment in the form of homemade butter or cheese. A well-fed writer is less likely to spend pages describing food, I think.
Perhaps aside from the "no grocery shopping while hungry" rule, there needs to be a "no writing while hungry" rule! Abraham Maslow did place the need for food at the bottom of his hierarchy for needs (where the most basic physiological needs were grouped). How can you strive for higher purposes if you're sleepless, thirsty, hungry, and so on?
I write (and work) better when I'm a little hungry, though. Maybe it was conditioning from all those years in graduate school. I suppose you'll have to live with my fixation on describing food in my work. :)
Ren "Hungry" D.
I'm often alone for the holidays. I try not to let it bother me because I really enjoy solitude when I have it. I do, honestly. However, I still feel a little sad when people post photos of their smiling families gathered around the dinner table or their glittering holiday decorations that look straight out of Martha Stewart’s magazine.
The plus side (I think?) is that people run off to share these days with their families, so the chatter on Facebook, Twitter, and so on is virtually nonexistent. Without others to distract me, I can focus on my novel-in-progress, The Fracture of a Dream.
Toward that end, I spent this Christmas Eve researching brain trauma, comas, and amnesia. (Am I allowed to call it an amnesia love story? Probably not, as it goes far beyond that label.)
It occurred to me that if anyone at Google were to keep track of my search terms and examine them individually (instead of in aggregate), I would certainly look like a hypochondriac or psychopath.
That's the writing life, I presume! May all your search terms raise eyebrows and forever remain interesting, fellow writers. Happy holidays!
Ren D.