FORSGREN: How one nerd focuses on writing and — SQUIRREL!
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“The Art of Nerding Out” is the magical fruit of a tree I dug up during my travels to the Far East. Each Monday morning, I pick and peel the fruit, and BEHOLD! A new “Nerding Out” column is posted to the web by Tuesday. And good times are had by all.
I’m just messing with you. This is how a “Nerding Out” column really comes together …
Friday afternoon (around 2)
– I roll around ideas in my head. What should I write about? What sounds interesting or fun? What is the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow?
Friday evening (around 6)
– Eureka! I know what I’m writing about this week! Now I’m going to the movies or putting on Netflix. I’ll get up early tomorrow and get my column written.
Saturday morning (11-ish)
– I rise from slumber, driven by a mixture of guilt for sleeping too late and the hunger pangs attacking my tummy. Time for a hot shower and a Katy Perry sing-along, er, I mean an Amon Amarth shower-mosh. Gulp.
Saturday afternoon (1:30)
– After sitting in front of my laptop for about two hours and not coming up with anything I’m happy with, I decide it’s time to strap on my guitar and jump around like a cross between Eddie Van Halen and LeBron James.
Saturday afternoon (2)
– A nasty spill caused by getting ensnared by my guitar cable convinces me it’s time to go back to work. You’d think hitting my head might jar some ideas loose, but no dice.
Saturday afternoon (3:30)
– Still no progress. Time for a drive. A dose of fresh air a pretty scenery should help me find inspiration.
Saturday evening (7)
Drive over, but now I’m tired. Plus I’m feeling the need to watch “The Great British Baking Show.” I’ll tackle the column tomorrow.
Sunday morning (9)
– I wake up from a nightmare, in which my editor hates my column and proceeds to pound me into the ground like a railroad spike. After catching my breath, I realize that the column I’m writing is completely stupid and doesn’t work. Panic sets in, but I still have like 48 hours, so it’s not desperate panic. Just the annoying, always-in-the-back-of-your-mind variety of panic.
Sunday morning (10)
– I still don’t have a clue what to write about so I motor over to Walmart to look at “Star Wars” LEGO sets and bad direct-to-video movies. I’ve always had a soft spot for cheesy bad cinema. And this movie where a megalodon fights a giant squid might be just what I need.
Sunday afternoon (1)
– What the (expletives deleted) did I just watch?!
Sunday afternoon (2)
– My tummy’s telling me that I’m not getting anything done until I feed myself, so I make myself a heaping plate of nachos. On the way to the table, I trip over my cat, spilling my food and causing me to wonder how well my kitty can swim.
Sunday afternoon (2:45)
– After remaking my nachos and chowing down, I sit down to write. I have an ember of an idea about how LARP-ing (Live Action Role Play) has revolutionized the world of dating. Then, I remember that I don’t date and to do this column I’d need to interview, at minimum, one couple who met while at a LARP throwdown. This sounds like too much work.
Sunday evening (6)
– I’m too stressed out to write. I’m wishing I could hire Ernest Cline to write for me this week. And every week. And just tell everybody I wrote this stuff. I mean, he’s a much better nerd writer than I am. Depression sets in. I need sleep. I won’t get any.
Monday morning (6)
– After a night of tossing and turning, I wake up in a cold sweat. I need to get something written, but I haven’t any ideas in my empty brain.
Monday afternoon (2:30)
– Finally, I have an idea that isn’t my greatest ever, but that I think I can get 700 words out of. I wait impatiently till I can get home and go to town.
Monday evening (6-ish)
– Ready to do some serious writing, I fire up my laptop and type as feverishly as a I can. You know, in between checks of Facebook. I take a few photos or Google search some images and BAM! I have a completed column about the five coolest dogs in pop culture. Or something like that.
Monday night (11)
– Relaxation takes over, and I settle myself down for bed. I’ll have to come up with another column for next week, but I’ve got until Friday night to not think about it.