Here I am, scatterbrained about writing again. (I initially posted this yesterday instead of my regular Friday.)
I thought by the time I wrote this post, I would have made some progress on my WIP. (I wrote in my last post about not having worked on it lately.) But, alas, no.
I did work on it, but I lost the new work to cyberspace. For some unknown reason, a three-hour chunk of words disappeared this week. Right after I crafted it. I saved it and closed it, then went back in to add a last-minute thought. And it wasn't there.
I looked everywhere I could think of. I refreshed the page. Nothing. That block of material was gone. It was midnight, so I thought maybe I was just brain-dead, and the recent work would appear the next day.
It did not. Days later, I still can't find it. I've moped and griped and prayed that God would make it appear, but so far...nothing.
Years ago, I lost seventeen pages of a novel I was working on. Seventeen pages. It made me sick. Because I was younger and had the time, I sat down and re-wrote all of it in an afternoon. I was obsessed about getting it all back.
I'm not so obsessed this time. I'm surely disappointed that my time and effort have been swallowed by an unidentifiable source, but it crossed my mind today that maybe that chunk of work wasn't that great. Already, I'm thinking, when I re-write it, I'm going to make changes. Maybe writing at midnight isn't the best idea. Maybe scrolling through facebook the hour before writing isn't the best idea either. I don't know. I write in fits and starts between care taking and doctor appointments and endless errands and laundry. I should be happy I get anything written at all.
And I am. Most days nothing gets lost. I have a computer that works well (I hope I didn't just jinx that.) I have loved ones who support my love of writing. I have eyes that pick up most typos and a good thesaurus. I have fingers that work.
So, with a deep breath, I'll start over tomorrow. I'll try to conjure up what I tapped out last week, only make it better. I'll roar at the cyber monsters to not eat my stuff. I'll write, whether it gets lost or not, published or not, whether it's good or not.
Because that's what writers do.