Writing is one of those endeavors that requires a lot of self-motivation. I often need to find increasingly creative ways to get myself moving. Some days, anyway. To be honest, it's been pretty much like that all summer, and for the most part, I've failed miserably. Once the doors and windows fly open to fresh air and bright sun, I want to be outside, not hunkered down over a keyboard.
The game changer this month was a persistent heat wave that blanketed Cleveland for several days. Not one for air conditioning as a general rule, there were several days where I just had to give in and throw the switch. But even that didn't send me to the computer. I mainly puttered around, knitting some, baking some, taking care of all the nuts and bolts of running a household until I actually ran out of things to do. I was trapped. Not wanting to stay in, not wanting to go out.
Enter Pokemon GO.
My first reaction to this phenomenon was, "Hmmm. A cool thing for kids to do." I was intrigued by the technology, but remembered back several years when my grandson Tim tried to teach me the intricacies of his Pokemon collection and how to play it. He was about four and I was--well, quite a bit older. As I recall, I listened politely and nodded wisely here and there so he wouldn't realize that my head was spinning and my comprehension level was zilch. So, although Pokemon GO looked like fun, I decided I didn't have the brains, or the time, to get involved.
Enter my writer friend, go-to techie and consummate blogger (www.raisinglifelonglearners.com), Colleen Kessler. We were having a bite to eat and some libation after a meeting one night when the subject of Pokemon GO came up. She pulled out her cell phone and immediately found a Pokemon to capture. And I was captured, as well. The next morning, I downloaded the app and soon found a Pokemon at the edge of the woods behind our house. There were two others in the park and during a walk, I got those, too. Plus I encountered several kids who were obviously on the hunt, too. I say obviously because they all had phones in hand and were clustered around where my own phone told me there was a Pokestop. I couldn't help myself. I had to ask them if they'd found anything. Their reactions ranged from incredulous (that someone even older than their mother knew what they were doing), triumphant (meaning yes, they'd caught one) and disgusted (their battery had run out).
Several days later, I was in a nearly small town to run some errands and turned on my phone. Just to check, of course. The entire screen was filled with nearby Pokestops. I gave one brief thought to going after the prey when I realized how often I'd been telling people (and myself) I didn't have enough time to do this or that. Did I really want to use what little I had on such a fruitless endeavor? No, I decided after wrangling with my conscience. I did not.
Still. . .
Thoughts of these creatures continued to intrigue me. I managed to find Pokemon at places where I naturally went anyway--Wal-Mart, a restaurant, the theater--and church. Believe it or not.
Then, one day, I had an inspiration. I had a few hours. It was Sunday. It was raining. Rather than spend them surrounded by closed doors and windows, I decided to go to our local library. I needed to get going on the next book in a series I had created and I'd always found I worked better without the distractions of home. To my delight and relief, I ended up spending two fruitful hours. Not only did I reignite a passion for my story, but I also sketched out the chapter flow and did some marketing by touching base with the librarians. And, as a reward, I caught two Pokemon.
I think I've found my motivation.
The game changer this month was a persistent heat wave that blanketed Cleveland for several days. Not one for air conditioning as a general rule, there were several days where I just had to give in and throw the switch. But even that didn't send me to the computer. I mainly puttered around, knitting some, baking some, taking care of all the nuts and bolts of running a household until I actually ran out of things to do. I was trapped. Not wanting to stay in, not wanting to go out.
Enter Pokemon GO.
My first reaction to this phenomenon was, "Hmmm. A cool thing for kids to do." I was intrigued by the technology, but remembered back several years when my grandson Tim tried to teach me the intricacies of his Pokemon collection and how to play it. He was about four and I was--well, quite a bit older. As I recall, I listened politely and nodded wisely here and there so he wouldn't realize that my head was spinning and my comprehension level was zilch. So, although Pokemon GO looked like fun, I decided I didn't have the brains, or the time, to get involved.
Enter my writer friend, go-to techie and consummate blogger (www.raisinglifelonglearners.com), Colleen Kessler. We were having a bite to eat and some libation after a meeting one night when the subject of Pokemon GO came up. She pulled out her cell phone and immediately found a Pokemon to capture. And I was captured, as well. The next morning, I downloaded the app and soon found a Pokemon at the edge of the woods behind our house. There were two others in the park and during a walk, I got those, too. Plus I encountered several kids who were obviously on the hunt, too. I say obviously because they all had phones in hand and were clustered around where my own phone told me there was a Pokestop. I couldn't help myself. I had to ask them if they'd found anything. Their reactions ranged from incredulous (that someone even older than their mother knew what they were doing), triumphant (meaning yes, they'd caught one) and disgusted (their battery had run out).
Several days later, I was in a nearly small town to run some errands and turned on my phone. Just to check, of course. The entire screen was filled with nearby Pokestops. I gave one brief thought to going after the prey when I realized how often I'd been telling people (and myself) I didn't have enough time to do this or that. Did I really want to use what little I had on such a fruitless endeavor? No, I decided after wrangling with my conscience. I did not.
Still. . .
Thoughts of these creatures continued to intrigue me. I managed to find Pokemon at places where I naturally went anyway--Wal-Mart, a restaurant, the theater--and church. Believe it or not.
Then, one day, I had an inspiration. I had a few hours. It was Sunday. It was raining. Rather than spend them surrounded by closed doors and windows, I decided to go to our local library. I needed to get going on the next book in a series I had created and I'd always found I worked better without the distractions of home. To my delight and relief, I ended up spending two fruitful hours. Not only did I reignite a passion for my story, but I also sketched out the chapter flow and did some marketing by touching base with the librarians. And, as a reward, I caught two Pokemon.
I think I've found my motivation.