"The free-lance writer is a man who is paid per piece or per word or perhaps." - Robert Benchley
Interruptions are the writer’s bane. I can create plenty of interruptions on my own; these don’t seem to fire me up. But when I am in a writing groove, a ringing phone or door-to-door solicitors can make me think about having a shot of bourbon at ten in the morning. Who would have guessed that evangelicals would find me in the middle of nowhere? Since my desk sits next to a window overlooking the front steps, I can’t pretend I am not here. I am polite but firm with everyone who knocks on my door. It is reasonable to smile and ask them to never come back.
The phone is another matter. I am clear about this—I am under no obligation to pick up the phone just because it rings. When I worked at an office, drawing a paycheck from someone else, I didn’t chat on the phone. I only took urgent calls from my family. So, why should I answer calls when I am writing at home? This is where I make my money, so why would I let phone interruptions interfere with my livelihood?
I monitor my calls. There are a lot more now that we are closer to the elections. Any call that pops up “private number” or “toll-free number” is not answered.
As for the sound of the phone ringing, I pretend that it is a sacred bell, calling me to be mindful. I breathe and smile three times, grateful that I am not talking to a telemarketer.
Friday, October 22, 2010
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