Last Sunday, I ordered a tropical green tea with boba and sat myself down in the middle of the crowded Metreon. I promised myself that I would not move until five pages had been written. Although, I did use the restroom twice.
I am writing a novella—novel seems too vast a word—for my thesis. In order to graduate, Creative Writing seniors must produce a collection of poetry, plays, or fiction. I decided to write a novella, because I am perhaps a masochistic. College application season is upon me, and if I am being honest, the sheer amount of writing for applications and my thesis is sickening. Last year, I decided that my thesis should be a novella after realizing that twenty pages would not capture a story that I needed to tell.
Now, four months later, I have set myself the structure of writing five pages a week. The problem is that as of late the words have not been coming to me. I will sit in front of my laptop screen for ten minutes, type nothing, then turn on the T.V. and watch Netflix. I did not write anything thesis-related during the month of September, and I loathed myself for the procrastination. Writing became a source of anxiety for me. From writing essays to writing fiction, I felt overwhelmed.
An adjustment was needed and so I forced an ultimatum upon myself: write or be forced to stay in the Metreon forever. And it worked. In an hour and a half, I not only wrote the pages but also edited several underclassmen’s essays as well. From now until my thesis is finished I will be camping out in the Metreon, Starbucks, Squat and Gobble, and any cafe that will let me. The words need to be written, and I must get over myself and do so.